


Labyrinth: Once and Forever

by FrancesOsgood



Series: Labyrinth: Past, Present and Future [2]
Category: Labyrinth (1986)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-12
Updated: 2020-04-24
Packaged: 2021-02-27 16:01:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 57,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22219732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FrancesOsgood/pseuds/FrancesOsgood
Summary: When his kingdom is overtaken by an evil force, Jareth begrudgingly enlists Sarah's help to find an ancient weapon powerful enough to destroy it. As with everything in the Underground, things are not what they seem. The weapon's dark origins harbor tragic secrets and terrible truths that could unravel the Labyrinth forever and destroy its King and its Champion. ("Seven" follow-up)
Relationships: Jareth/Sarah Williams
Series: Labyrinth: Past, Present and Future [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1678816
Comments: 64
Kudos: 56





	1. Dreams Remembered

**Author's Note:**

> This story serves as a follow-up to "Seven", but comes after the events of the film. It's kind of a "Star Wars" chronology. If the film is "A New Hope", "Seven" is *gulp* the prequels and "Once and Forever" is "The Force Awakens". Clear as mud?

Sarah gazed down through the darkness at the sleeping form on the ground before her. Even in the dim light, just one thin moonlit beam from the window above, she could make out the figure of the Goblin King. He lay with his naked back to her, his white-gold hair spilling over the floor around his head. His hands were ungloved but bound tightly together behind his back. She watched the slow rise and fall of his shoulders and the slight rippling of muscle beneath his pale skin as he shallowly breathed.

Sarah was roused from her staring by the sound of steady shuffling from down the hall as if something enormous was dragging itself down the corridor.

"Jareth," Sarah tried to call out, but her voice died in her throat. "Jareth," she tried to croak out again.

The shuffling grew louder and Sarah knew that whatever was advancing on them was getting closer. She willed sound to emanate from her throat as the heavy wooden door to Jareth's cell clicked and began to creak open.

In desperation, Sarah fought to find her voice and at last she felt it welling up from deep in her core. It rushed upward and out of her mouth in an unearthly wail that shattered the walls and filled the room with blinding light.

"Jareth!"

"Jesus, Sarah! What are you trying to do, wake the dead?"

Sarah blinked and looked around. She was sitting upright on a thin cot in a small room. Across the tiny space, Alex, her roommate was sitting up as well and scowling at her.

"Um...sorry, Alex," Sarah mumbled sheepishly. "I had a nightmare."

Alex's scowl deepened. "Well, you scared the shit out me," he said angrily. "Rooming with you is a nightmare for me!"

He shoved off his covers and stomped off to the bathroom.

"Sorry," Sarah called after him, but he didn't answer.

Alex emerged from the bathroom a few minutes later when there was a knock on the door of their shared room. He opened the door and Sarah could hear the muffled voice of Dr. DiRossi in the hallway.

"No, it's ok," Alex told the unseen DiRossi. "Dr. Williams just had a nightmare." Sarah could hear the acid in his voice and she slunk down onto her cot. Why did she keep having these ridiculous nightmares?

She looked up from her cot as Alex stomped over to his side of the room and grabbed his pillow and blanket from his cot and headed toward the door.

"Where are you going?" Sarah asked him.

He turned in the doorway to face her. "I'm going to sleep on the sofa downstairs," he snapped. "We have a lot of work to do tomorrow and I've got to get some sleep!"

He turned on his heel and left, slamming the door sharply behind him.

Sarah rolled over onto her side and let out a long puff of air. It was getting embarrassing. This was the fifth time in as many nights that she'd had the dream and awakened screaming.

"It has to be this place," she told herself.

There was something more than mystical about the endless plains of desert broken up by ancient sandstone mountains. The huge red cliffs formed walls and passageways across the barren landscape. The sparkling sandstone cliffs where the reason she had come to Jordan in the first place. There were bits and pieces of ancient stories hidden in their cracks and crevices. They reminded her a bit of the outermost ring of the Labyrinth, unending miles of sameness marked by hidden doorways or passages that led to nowhere at all.

Sarah fumbled beneath her pillow and brought out the broken fragment of carved gold. It was such a small, simple piece, yet it had seemed to call to her from under years of sand. She studied it in the dim light. The little fragment looked like it had been part of a circle. It curved upward but was jagged on one side as if it been torn apart, There were markings along its curved edge, but they were worn with time and the elements.

Sarah stuck the little piece back under her pillow and laid her head down on it. It was strange. She'd begun having the dreams the night after she'd found it. Perhaps...

She shook the thought away. There was nothing to connect this place to the Goblin Kingdom or its monarch. And even if there were, what did it have to do with her? She'd had enough of the Labyrinth and Jareth fifteen years earlier when she'd managed to find her way to the castle and win back her stolen baby brother.

" _Wished-away baby brother"_ whispered an unseen voice.

Startled, Sarah sat up and looked around the dark room. There was nothing but the small desk and chair and Alex's empty cot.

Sarah frowned as she lay back down.

"Fuck the Goblin King," she spoke to the dark before turning over and once again falling asleep.

* * *

Jareth resisted the urge to shift uncomfortably under the cold glare of the Morrigan. He willed himself still as she and the members of the Fae Council stared down at him.

"I find it interesting," the goddess hissed, "that you come here now after centuries of neglecting our assemblies." Her voice was like ice against his spine.

Jareth pushed his shoulders back and dared to look her right in the face.

"None of you have ever wanted me here," he said insolently. "I am not like the rest of you, as you've always made abundantly clear."

"Then why should we help you?" asked Lugh, the arrogant Council Commander. He sat at the Morrigan's side and made no attempt to hide his dislike of the goblin monarch. "If it's true what you say, we owe you nothing. You were not born of this realm," he continued with a sneer.

"No," snapped Jareth. "I was reborn into it. I was stripped of my humanity and chained to what used to be a wasteland. And if nothing is done, it will be a wasteland once more."

The Council was silent for a moment before the Morrigan spoke again.

"If this land is so distasteful to you, Jareth, why are you here begging for help to save it?"

"You know why, Goddess," Jareth quietly replied.

The Morrigan smiled, but there was no warmth or kindness on her face. Jareth knew he had to play his final hand.

"The Goblin Kingdom and the Underground are tied to everything in the Fae realm," he proclaimed boldly. "If they fall to this evil, the others will not be far behind."

The room fell silent again and Jareth prayed that his words had found their mark. His hopes were dashed when the entire Council erupted into laughter.

"Oh Jareth," the Morrigan began after the laughter had died down. "How little you still know of our ways."

She left her place beside Lugh and stepped down from the high dais to face him.

"Surely you remember from your human experience what happens to a limb of the body that becomes dangerously infected."

Jareth averted his eyes from her icy gaze and refused to answer. The goddess put her frigid hand under his chin and lifted his gaze to meet hers.

"The infected limb is cut off, is it not?" she asked.

"But goddess..." Jareth began, but he was cut off as she tightened her hand around his jaw, clenching his mouth shut.

"For too long the Underground has been a gangrenous wound on the body of the Fae realm, " she spat. "It is time to cut it off."

Jareth groaned and wrenched himself out of her grasp. "You would let us fall?" he asked. "One of your own?"

The goddess stepped back up onto the dais and took her place at the head of the Council table.

"As you have said yourself, Jareth," she purred. "You are not one of us."

With a wave of her hand, she and the Council disappeared and Jareth found himself transported back to his castle tower overlooking the Labyrinth. Just beyond its borders, the thick, black, putrid mass bubbled up from the chasms torn open by the last tremor. The foul-smelling blob had oozed another foot or so closer just since he had been gone. It was gaining ground, overrunning the land, absorbing everything in its path and leaving nothingness in its wake. The black slime was already tickling the base of the stone mountains and many of the creatures along the northern border had abandoned their homes for higher ground in the innermost parts of the Labyrinth.

Jareth closed his eyes and let himself slump against the tower window frame. He had tried for so long to keep the oozing mass at bay, but his magic was largely ineffective. He and the Rock-Callers had erected thick walls beyond the northern boundaries, but they had been engulfed by the ever-encroaching slime. The Council had been Jareth's last hope. His stomach had churned to have had to grovel at the feet of the Fae elite, but he had set aside his pride for the sake of his kingdom. And all for naught.

A sharp knock on the tower door temporarily brought him out of his dark thoughts.

"Come," he called a bit too forcefully.

Sir Didymus entered and bowed low. "I see Your Majesty has returned," he said.

"Yes," Jareth sighed. "Anything to report?"

"The last of the Rock-Callers have moved hence to the east valley, Sire. Hoggle and Squashblossom have issued complaints about their singing, but I told them the matter would be dealt with upon Your Majesty's return."

"Very well," replied the Goblin King. He moved to the table where he poured himself a goblet of ale and sank into a chair.

"If I may ask, Sire," began the little knight, "How didst thou fare with the Fae Council?"

"Not well, Didymus," Jareth answered. He tossed back the last of his ale before slamming the goblet down on the table.

"We're on our own."

* * *


	2. Broken Bits

The sun had not yet risen when Sarah, Dr. DiRossi, and the still grousing Alex left the guest house in Wadi Musa and headed east toward the dig site in Petra. Sarah had tried again to apologize to Alex over their hasty breakfast of _shrak_ bread, _halloumi_ and strong Bedouin coffee, but he was tired and irritable after spending the night on the guest house sofa.

"Forget it," he had snapped, waving her off. He'd downed another espresso-sized cup of the stout coffee and staggered out to the truck with his pack.

Sarah had shrugged her shoulders and grabbed her pack and followed, but said nothing else to him as they loaded the truck. Now they were bouncing along a dusty road toward the dig site, the sun rising in gold sheets that spread over the sandy soil and glowed orange against the red cliffs. Sarah was squished tightly between Dr. DiRossi, who was driving and Alex, who turned away from her and stared, half-asleep out the window. Behind them, the local team they had hired for the dig followed in an identical truck, bobbing up and down over the rough road. The team was the third one they had hired. The first two had begun working, but as soon as Sarah had shown up at the site they had thrown down their tools, made the sign of the Evil Eye and left, never to return.

Sarah wasn't sure why she put everyone on edge. It seemed to her it at always been that way, even before her run in the Labyrinth. She remembered traveling as a girl to the home of one her mother's older relatives who looked her up and down and declared she was fairy-kissed, whatever that meant. Her family had taken a trip to Ireland when she was in fourth grade and the entire staff of the little B&B where they'd stayed had given her wary looks and touched the crucifixes around their necks whenever she'd crossed their paths.

Her mother had not been helpful. "It's because your father is a troll," Linda had told her when Sarah called to tell her about the trip.

" _Bitch,"_ Sarah mumbled under her breath in the crowded truck.

"What was that?" asked Dr. DiRossi. He turned and gave Sarah a quizzical look, his wire-framed glasses bouncing on his nose from the vibrations of truck.

"Nothing," Sarah answered, embarrassed. She quickly pulled out her notebook and pretended to study her notes even though she knew such a task would be nearly impossible in the jostling vehicle.

Thankfully, the dig site soon came into view. The yellow field markers fluttered in the desert wind around the area. Large squares of rocky sand had been excavated by the dig team and dumped by the wheelbarrow-full into the plain behind the site. In the square pits, more flags marked areas of interest or potential finds. So far they'd come across large pieces of Nabataean bowls, urns and lamps and some fragmented carvings and small coins.

Sarah touched the worn, gold fragment in her pocket as she walked from the truck to the dig site. It seemed so out of place among the stacks of rust-colored pottery shards and sandstone statuettes. She hoped to find more, perhaps the rest of the broken piece, but that meant going back to the shadowy spot in which she'd found it, and she wasn't sure that was possible. Alex was already eyeing her with suspicion and Dr. DiRossi was sure to keep her busy cataloguing the numerous scraps the dig-team uncovered.

She'd found the spot quite by accident. There was no convenient bathroom at the site, so personal business had to be taken care of out in the open. Not relishing the thought of relieving herself in close proximity to her peers and the dig team, Sarah had wandered out into a valley between two long sandstone cliffs. The valley provided privacy and even some shade behind the tall, red cliff walls. It was there that she first heard the whispers.

At first, she'd thought it was the heat messing with her head and so she'd sat down on the ground and rested her head against the cool base of the cliff. As soon as her hand had brushed the sand, she'd felt it: a pull, a tug, an urge so insistent that she'd been unable to ignore it. Springing up to her knees, Sarah had dug with her hands as the call grew louder and louder in her ears. She continued to scrape through the sand with her fingers, frantically tossing dirt and rocks aside until at last she'd seen a small glimmer. Sarah had lifted the golden fragment out of the sand and sat back on her heels. She'd turned it, examining it in the light, taking in the worn figures and inscriptions on the curved end of the piece.

She'd thought about taking the fragment directly to Dr. DiRossi for analysis, but something had stopped her.

" _This is for me,"_ she'd thought. " _It called out to me. For me."_

She had quietly pocketed the piece and returned to the dig site, telling no one of what she had found. When the team returned to Wadi Musa that evening, Sarah had placed it under her pillow. She wasn't sure why, as that wasn't the most secure place for it, but it seemed to _want_ to be kept there. It was that evening that she'd begun having the nightmares. At first, she'd chalked it up to exerting so much energy digging wildly under the blazing desert sun. However, the dreams continued the next night and the next, and the next, five nights in total.

Now Alex was ill and avoiding her even though they were supposed to be working together, and Sarah had a feeling deep in her gut that the fragment and her nightmares were somehow connected.

* * *

Jareth and the Wise Man stepped carefully around the path at the base of the stone mountains, guarding their steps lest they should dip a toe into the inky slime that was creeping ever further into the Underground. The Wise Man broke off a large branch from a nearby tree and approached the sticky, stinky sludge.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Jareth warned him.

The old man chuckled and shook his enormous head. "We can't say we've examined it, young Master, until we've poked it with a stick," he told the Goblin King.

Jareth shrugged and said nothing but remained close by as the Wise Man dipped the branch into the festering mass. In a blink, the slime had grasped the branch and was pulling it and the Wise Man toward its putrid depths. With lightning reflexes, Jareth grabbed the old man, pulling him backwards and out of harm's way. The branch was not so fortunate and was sucked into the disgusting ooze, disappearing with a sickening slurp beneath the black ripples.

"This is Dark magic," said the slightly shaken Wise Man.

"No shit!" piped up his hat. It looked down at the spot where the branch had disappeared and shuddered.

"Thank you for saving me, young Master," the old man said, laying a wizened hand on the king's shoulder.

Jareth ignored the familiarity and walked to the edge of the encroaching slime.

"Where is it coming from?" he asked, searching the depths of the mass for clues.

The Wise Man hesitated to respond, knowing that the king would not like the answer.

"It's coming from the land itself," he said at last.

Jareth snapped his head around to look at the ancient man. "But how can that be? I have cleansed the land of this darkness. It should have no foothold here," he protested.

The Wise Man shook his head. "No, Your Majesty," he began slowly. "The best your magic could do was sweep it under the proverbial rug. That was enough until-"

Jareth clenched his jaw tight at the thought. "Yes, _until,"_ he fumed. Until that retched girl returned and turned his world upside down. Again. Until she'd wreaked havoc on his kingdom and subjects. Again. Until she'd spurned him. Again.

"Damn her, how is she doing this?" he asked no one in particular. He kicked a rock and it soared high and then fell with a flop into the creeping quagmire.

"Her presence here alone could have reawakened it, Your Majesty," replied the Wise Man.

"Yeah," squawked the hat. "She's its mistress, after all."

There was a long silence before the Goblin King spoke again.

"I know what the two of you are thinking, and it's simply out of the question. I've already groveled to the Fae Council. I'll not grovel to _her_!"

_Not again._

Jareth turned and began to stomp away toward the castle.

"You may not have to grovel at all, young Master," said the Wise Man and Jareth froze in his tracks.

"And how is that?" he asked, slowly turning back to glare at the old man.

The hat cowered low on the head of the Wise Man as the Goblin King stepped toward them, but the Wise Man made no move to retreat.

"She has found a piece of the A _nima vasa,"_ he replied simply. "A small shard of the pendant, but it has already brought her dreams and many questions. She'll be looking for answers."

Jareth was quietly thoughtful for a moment. The _Anima vasa._ He had thought it was long gone. The Morrigan in her rage had shattered it and scattered it to the winds, casting its pieces far and wide over the Aboveground, the mundane world of Men. If that blasted girl had found it, even a fragment of it, she had more will and more potential power than even the Morrigan could have imagined. Such power could be useful. Such power could save them all...

Jareth clenched his fists and looked at the Wise Man.

"No," he shouted like a temperamental child. "I won't. I'd rather be slowly absorbed by this disgusting black sludge!"

He dissolved down into his owl form and flew up into the flaming sky, leaving the Wise Man standing on the slope of the stone mountains. He let out a call as he winged back toward his castle tower.

_"Fuck Sarah Williams!"_


	3. City On a Hill

"Damn that girl," cursed the Morrigan as she peered over her scrying bowl. "I should have destroyed her long ago."

She frowned down at the image of Sarah Williams clawing through the sand and finally pulling out the small fragment of the _Anima vasa._

"She has found it?" asked a voice over the Goddess's shoulder. The Morrigan turned to glare at Maeve.

"Yes," she snapped angrily. From the beginning, Maeve had questioned her decision to bestow humanity upon the girl rather than destroy her. She would no doubt love to see her argument validated.

The Morrigan waved her hand over the bowl and it darkened, cutting of Maeve's view of the scene.

"She's only found a small fragment," the Morrigan said, trying to appear cool and collected though she inwardly seethed.

Maeve smugly smiled. "A small fragment is enough and you know it. Already the magic calls to her," she said. "A taste will not be enough for her. She'll seek out the rest-"

"She'll not find it!" The Morrigan shouted, losing her cool at last. She paused, trying to regain her composure. Finally she turned back to Maeve who had retreated a few steps.

"She's an ordinary girl," she said slowly. "She found this piece merely by coincidence. There is no way on Earth Above or Below that she will find the rest of the _Anima vasa._ She doesn't even know what it is."

Maeve shrugged and stepped around the Goddess toward the scrying bowl and swept her hand over the crystal water. The water rippled beneath her touch and a picture of Sarah Williams swam to the surface. The two women looked down at the figure of the mortal girl fitfully sleeping with the fragment of the _Anima vasa_ tucked beneath her pillow.

"I think you underestimate her," Maeve told the Goddess. "I think you have taken too much for granted where Sarah Williams is concerned.

The Morrigan narrowed her eyes at Maeve. "What do you mean?" she growled.

"There are whisperings," Maeve began, a wicked smile spreading across her face, "that a certain king is also seeking the _Anima vasa_ and its present holder."

"Hah!" laughed the Morrigan at the ridiculousness of the idea. "You expect me to believe that the Goblin King will seek her assistance after he was so thoroughly humiliated by the little wench?"

She laughed again, trying to push down the gnawing doubts that were beginning to eat at her cold resolve.

"The Goblin King is desperate," said Maeve. "The Fae Council denied him aid. _You_ denied him aid. It is within the realm of possibility that he will seek Sarah Williams' assistance. Especially if there is a chance that they can find and restore the _Anima vasa._ "

"The two of them have been a thorn in my side from the very beginning," fumed the Goddess. She peered once more down at the sleeping mortal. "They are thieves and liars and far more trouble than either of them are worth."

"I tried to tell you-" Maeve sneered.

"Get out," spat the Morrigan. She'd had enough of Maeve's insolence. The other woman smiled coldly and turned and walked out of the dark chamber and the Goddess slammed the door shut behind her. She turned back to her scrying bowl and leaned down close to peer into its depths.

"Perhaps I have been too easy on you, Sarah Williams," she hissed. "Well, no more. You and the wretched king of the goblins have tried my patience for the last time."

* * *

Sarah lifted a hand to shield her eyes as she scanned the dig site. The workers were busily hauling loads of dirt and rocks in wheelbarrows along the network of plank ramps radiating from the square pits. Their dark skin glistened with sweat as they labored in the midday sun. In one of the pits. Alex barked orders to the men slowly scraping away eons of sand from the pieces of pottery still hidden in the earth.

"Careful!" he called to them. "Those are valuable antiquities!"

The men looked at him and then one another quizzically, not understanding a word of his New Jersey English.

Beyond the dig site, Dr. DiRossi was poring over notebooks in the wide tent that served as a cataloguing lab and library. Sarah approached the open flap of the tent and addressed the head of the expedition.

"Dr. DiRossi," she called to the older man, "I'll be right back. I need to attend to personal business."

"Personal business" was Sarah's unofficial codeword for using the bathroom. She thought it sounded a lot better than Alex's "I need to take a piss."

DiRossi grunted, not looking up from his notebooks and Sarah took that as a sign of acknowledgement. She crept quietly away from the dig site to the area she'd visited a few days earlier.

The valley between the red cliffs was relatively cooler than the surrounding areas and Sarah removed the scarf around her neck and wiped her brow with it. She continued to follow the narrow valley, listening intently for the whispers that had drawn her to the ancient gold fragment. She heard nothing but the desert wind whipping and whistling down the shadowed passageway. Sarah stopped and bent down and touched the sand, hoping for the pull she'd felt before. There was nothing. She leaned against the sandstone cliff, disappointed.

"Maybe it _was_ all in my head," she said aloud. She'd always had an active imagination and the mysterious ancient desert and mountains certainly provided fuel for her colorful dream-life.

She sighed and pushed herself off the rock and turned to head back to the dig site. As she rounded a dark corner in the narrow pass, she found her pathway blocked by a group of seven men in black robes and _shemaghs_. Sarah's heart leapt into her throat as she noticed they were heavily armed with assault rifles and long curved daggers. Her first thought was to run, but the only route of escape was behind her and that would lead her deeper into the canyon to god-only-knew-where. She drew in a breath to yell, but one of the men gave a signal and the whole band trained their weapons on her. The scream died in her throat in the face of seven gun barrels pointed at her.

One of them men stepped away from the group. His _shemagh_ was tied around his face covering all but his dark eyes.

"Greetings, Sarah Williams," he said. "Do not make a sound and no harm will come to you."

Sarah wanted to ask how the hell the man knew her name, but she forced herself to remain silent, only nodding her assent. Seeing her compliance, the leader of the group signaled to the others and they lowered their rifles and Sarah breathed a small sigh of relief.

"I am sure you are wondering how we know your name," the man continued in a thick accent.

Sarah nodded again, still looking around for any possible means of escape. The cliff walls were far too steep and smooth for climbing, the path behind her was uncertain, and the path in front of her was blocked by seven heavily armed men. She was thoroughly trapped.

"Do not think to escape," said the masked man. "We have no wish to harm you, only to deliver you to our _rayiys._ However, we will shoot you if you try to run." He stepped toward Sarah and took her by the arm, pulling her away from the rocks before handing her off to two of the other men.

He spoke to the group in Arabic and Sarah understood him to be telling them to "lead her to the trucks." The men shuffled her forward and she allowed herself to be led further into the canyon and away from the safety of the dig site. She was aware that Dr. DiRossi might be looking for her by now, but doubted the old man's ability to rescue her from the midst of Bedouin thugs armed with assault rifles.

The group funneled down the rocky channel until at last the passageway opened up and Sarah saw a row of luxury SUVs. The black vehicles gleamed in the high sun, obviously expensive and well-maintained. Sarah remained silent as she was stuffed into the back of one of the SUVs between two of the armed guards. She looked around at the spotless interior of the vehicle and noted its state-of-the-art controls, sleek detailing and satellite radio. Whoever their _rayiys_ was, he had lots of money.

The other men climbed into the matching vehicles, three in all, and the caravan rolled out onto the desert plain. The spokesman of the group was driving the SUV Sarah was riding in and he turned back to look at her. He had removed his _shemagh_ and Sarah could see his face. He didn't look particularly menacing. In fact, he was rather good-looking: young with a dark beard, a longish nose and full lips and skin the color of a Starbucks latte.

"Fasten your seatbelt, please," he told Sarah with a smile. She did and was immediately grateful because the car suddenly jolted into top speed, throwing sand as it weaved and drifted over the dunes. Sarah had heard tales about the Bedouin racers who sped all over the desert in their specially designed cars, but this was ridiculous. The three cars spun circles and figure-eights across the sand with their drivers clearly enjoying kicking up huge clouds of dust as they raced along.

"Can we please slow down?" Sarah managed to shout over the roar.

The driver looked back at her and smiled. "When we reach the highway, yes," he said.

"Highway?" Sarah asked.

"The King's Highway. North to Karak. That is where our _rayiys_ waits."

Sarah sat back and tried to keep her stomach from churning until finally a desolate-looking stretch of road came into view beyond the dunes. The SUVs settled into a more reasonable speed as they followed the road north to the city of Karak. Sarah had never been there before but knew it was one of the more touristy cities in Jordan since it overlooked the Dead Sea. The thought filled her with hope that perhaps she could manage to get away from her captors and find some of her own countrymen to help her.

The sun was beginning to set when the cars rounded a bend and the city came into view. It was not the modern city that Sarah had imagined and her heart sank. She leaned forward a bit to look out the window as the car sped up toward the city on the hill. People were gathered in the streets selling fruits and vegetables and clothing items. Shop after shop was fronted by rows of newly slaughtered goats hanging by their back legs. The smell of _mansaf_ wafted into the vehicles as they passed, making Sarah's stomach growl and reminding her that it had been several hours since she had eaten.

After several minutes of winding though the jumble of streets, the car dipped into a valley and up to a large iron gate. The driver pulled up to the gatehouse and showed his pass card to the security guard who opened the gate and waved them through. Beyond the iron gate was a long, paved driveway edged on either side by endless rows of olive trees. The caravan wound down the long driveway and finally stopped in front of an enormous white estate with arched windows and a large prayer tower in its southwest corner.

Sarah was led by her captors from the SUV up to a huge, ornately carved wooden door. One of the men pulled a cord and Sarah could hear a gong echoing inside the large building. The door swung open and a man in a crème colored dress suit and red sash greeted them.

"We have brought the girl," said the leader of the group in his native tongue to the man. He pushed Sarah forward as if to prove the statement.

The man at the door cast a quick glance at Sarah and then back at the group of armed men. "The sheikh will be pleased," he said simply.

"What about our payment?" the leader asked, taking a menacing step toward the man at the door. The other men stepped in as well, brandishing their weapons.

"Put your weapons down," snapped the doorman. "You know they are of no use here. You will be paid when the package is deemed acceptable."

The men grumbled, but made no further argument to the doorman. They shoved Sarah at him and shuffled off into a dark corner of the compound.

Sarah bristled at being referred to as a package and made no attempt to hide her displeasure as she was roughly handed off to the doorman who ushered her into a cavernous hall and ordered her to remove her dusty boots.

"I don't know who this sheikh is," she said crossly, "but he'd better have a good explanation for kidnapping me from my expedition. I have people who will be looking for me, you know."

"You will hold your tongue," shot back the door man in perfect English, "Unless you would like to be handed back over to that group outside."

Furious, but preferring the safety of the guarded estate to the company of her captors, Sarah did as she was told. She followed the suited man down the long hallway and up an enormous marble stairway. From high on the stairs Sarah had a clearer view of the rooms below. Gilded walls hung with shining mirrors lined the corridor while colorful woven rugs adorned floors of polished granite. Sarah had never seen such an ornately appointed room.

_"Maybe once,"_ spoke a little voice in her head.

She ignored the voice and continued to follow the doorman down another brightly lit corridor until he stopped at an ebony door and opened it for her.

"Do what you need to refresh yourself," he told her. "I will return and collect you in twenty minutes. Do not dawdle. Your host, the Sheikh will be waiting."

Sarah peeked into the room and gasped. It, like the rest of the estate was beyond lavish. The walls were hung with billowing emerald green drapes. A plush carpet in the design of a peacock covered the floor. In the middle of the room there was a giant canopied bed with spindled posts, deep green curtains and mounds of pillows. Stepping further into the room, Sarah found a large en suite bathroom in the same color of cool green marble.

She turned to question the doorman about her so-called host, but he had already disappeared. Rather than sulk about her predicament, Sarah decided to make use of the inviting bathroom. She splashed some cool water on her face and scrubbed away the road dust and grime. She ran her fingers through her long tousled hair trying to untangle the knots that had somehow worked their way into her dark locks. After a while she gave up.

"What does it matter anyway?" she asked herself. "Do I really care if I look presentable to the guy who kidnapped me?"

Exactly twenty minutes after leaving her at door of the room, the doorman reappeared and whisked her off to another part of the imposing estate. Sarah looked up in wonder as they entered a room paneled in rich mahogany and furnished with gilded chairs covered in red velvet and sleek leather sofas. At each end of the room a spiral staircase curled upward into a large vaulted loft. Sarah leaned her head back and gaped up at the second level where bookcases stretched to the ceiling.

A chuckle was heard from the upper tier and then a honeyed voice that was both familiar and jarring rang down from above making Sarah's blood run cold.

"Tell me, Sarah... How are you enjoying my library?"


	4. Reunion

Jareth had expected her to be angry. He had imagined Sarah launching into a fiery tirade of "how-dare-you" and "it's-not-fair" and "you-have-no-power-over-me." He leaned over the balcony railing and gazed down at the dark-haired beauty, waiting for her violent, yet utterly delicious epic meltdown. He was sorely disappointed.

Instead, she looked up at him, her big emerald eyes full of amazement and said simply, "I somehow knew it would be you."

The Goblin King was taken aback for a moment, having expected tears and protestations. Their last meeting after all had been quite the dramatic event: pleading, crying, bold declarations... and that was just _his_ input. He looked down at where she stood and took in her features. She was exactly as he remembered. Not the child that had beaten the Labyrinth and left his kingdom in chaos, but the intoxicating, dangerous thing from eons earlier who had stolen his heart and his humanity and left him chained to a kingdom of goblins. Her long hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail and her face was free of any sign of makeup. Her clothes were dusty from the road and she'd left her boots in the front hall, so she was barefoot. Still, the way she held herself with her shoulders back, her head high and her eyes shining with ice and fire was a perfect picture of the first time her had seen her. Jareth smiled. _Sarah._

As if reading his thoughts, she put her hands on her hips and sighed.

"Did you really have to resort to kidnapping or is that just your calling card?" she asked.

Jareth laughed and shook his head.

"Would you have come willingly if I had asked?" he called down to her.

She remained silent and he took that as an answer. He made his way down the spiral staircase to the first level to where Sarah Williams stood and patiently waited while she looked him up and down.

The Goblin King was smaller than she remembered. He had seemed to tower over her when she had run the Labyrinth, but now they seemed nearly the same height even though she had grown only an inch or two since she was fifteen. His black leather and dark armor had been traded for a white _thawb_ and white pants. The long tunic was open at the chest, revealing the large curved medallion he always wore. His hair was hidden under a red and white patterned _keffiyah,_ but Sarah suspected his mane was as big and wild as ever. His eyes followed hers as she gave him the once-over and Sarah remembered noticing his strange eyes the first time they had met.

"What do you want?" she asked him finally.

Jareth feigned shock. "What makes you think I want something?" he asked innocently. "Perhaps I just wanted to see you again."

"Right," Sarah replied. "That's why you hired a group of thugs to kidnap me at gunpoint and drag me away from my work. Which reminds me, there are probably police or something headed this way right now to-"

Soft fingers fell over her lips, silencing her. Sarah looked down at the Jareth's bare hand and backed away, surprised.

"What's the matter," Jareth asked, seeing her reaction.

"You're not wearing gloves," Sarah answered, staring at his pale hands and long tapered fingers.

"Sarah dear, it's 102 degrees outside."

Sarah turned away, shaking her head. This was ludicrous. What was he doing here? What was _she_ doing here with him?

"You've found something, haven't you Sarah?" the Goblin King asked her in answer to her thoughts. Sarah turned back to face him and he stepped in closer, crossing his arms over his chest.

"How do you know about that?" Sarah asked him.

The Goblin King didn't answer her question but moved around her, casually brushing his hand against the side of her hip where the gold fragment was tucked snuggly into her pocket. She jumped at his touch and he smiled.

"Tell me," he cooed, "how are you sleeping, Sarah? Any...odd dreams?"

Sarah clenched her fists at her side. She wanted to slap his beautiful but smug face and tell him to go to hell, but at the same time her curiosity had been piqued. The Goblin King knew about the golden piece _and_ about the dreams she'd been having. Perhaps he could tell her what the fragment was and why she'd been waking up screaming her lungs out.

"Fine," she told him after a moment's hesitation. "I did find something and yes, I have been having some messed-up dreams, but how do you know that? Have you been spying on me?"

The Goblin King rolled his strange eyes. "Oh please," he scoffed. "I really have better things to do than spy on _insignificant_ mortals." He paused to let the insult sink in before continuing. "I know because what you have found is more than an ancient artifact; it's an ancient _**magical**_ artifact. As such, it relates to me and others of my kind. It calls to us. Do you understand?"

Sarah narrowed her eyes at the insufferable Goblin King. It all made sense now. If the fragment she had found had magical origins, of course he would want it. But it had called out to _her._ There was no way she was going to willingly hand it over to him. She put her hand on her pocket and traced the outline of the fragment with her fingers. The Goblin King anxiously watched her.

"You can't have it," she told him finally. "It's of archeological importance and needs to be studied."

"Yes," sneered the Goblin King. "That's why you've been keeping it under your pillow." He paused and watched as Sarah's face reddened and her eyes began to flash and he knew she was about to erupt. Calmly, he stepped forward and took her hand and almost laughed out loud to see her ire choked back by sheer surprise.

"Sarah," he said, "Let me explain. This small piece that you've found belongs to a larger object of great importance and power."

"Let me guess," Sarah began, jerking her hand away from his, "you need this piece to finish some little magical puzzle in order to gain more power. No deal, Goblin King."

"No Sarah, you misunderstand," Jareth replied. "I don't have the other pieces. They've been lost for centuries. However, by some chance this piece found its way to you. That was surely no accident. As much as I loathe to admit it, you're meant to help me."

"Help you?"

"Yes, my kingdom is in danger."

Sarah held up her hand as she tried to make sense of what he was telling her. The Goblin Kingdom was in danger? But why on Earth was the almighty Goblin King asking her, an _insignificant_ mortal, for help?

"Sarah, it called to you, did it not?" he asked in answer to her unuttered question. "You can help me find the rest and save the Underground from certain destruction."

"Why should I help you?" Sarah asked coldly.

"It isn't the land alone that is in danger," the Goblin King explained. "Its creatures are in danger as well. And I believe that includes some friends of yours."

"Hoggle?" asked Sarah.

The Goblin King nodded. "Everyone. Dwarves, rock-callers, even the bloody goblins."

Sarah paused and looked down at the marble floor. She had not called on her friends in many years, but they had always understood. Hoggle and Sir Didymus and Ludo had promised to always come if she needed them. Surely she would do the same for them. But how could she know for certain that their monarch was even telling the truth?

"Why should I trust you?" she asked him. "How do I know that this isn't some power grab on your part?"

Jareth rubbed the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger in frustration. Of course Sarah would be suspicious. Mistrust had been a sore spot between them from the very beginning. And rightly so. He briefly considered taking her to the Underground to see for herself, but quickly decided against it. Her last visit had nearly been disastrous and had set his present troubles in motion.

"How would you like to see your friends?" he asked Sarah. "If I bring them here they can tell you about the threat we're facing."

Sarah considered it for a moment. She knew she could trust her trio of friends from the Underground. And it had been ages since she had seen any of them.

"All right," she told the Goblin King. "But I don't want them brought here under any duress or anything like that."

"Agreed," sighed Jareth.

He waved his hand in a wide circle in the air above his head and suddenly two dwarves fell through the invisible portal and onto the hard marble floor.

"Ow, damn it!" one of the dwarves gruffly cursed. Sarah immediately recognized Hoggle's voice and ran to where he lay sprawled on the floor.

"Hoggle!" she exclaimed, hugging the dwarf tightly.

"Sarah? Sarah!" he cried, hugging her back. "How are ya?"

She was about to answer when the other dwarf stood and approached and Sarah could see that it was a female with long wavy brown hair and large violet eyes. Her skin was dark and leathery like Hoggle's but she had a warm smile and a pleasant expression.

"Ugh," groaned the Goblin King. "What is Squishbottom doing here?"

"Her name is Squashblossom," retorted Hoggle. "And she insisted on comin' on account o' she doesn't trust you."

"No, an' I don't like ya, neither," Squashblossom told the Goblin King before stepping forward and extending a hand to Sarah. "Hi, Sarah," she said. "I'm Hoggle's wife."

Sarah looked back and forth at the two for a moment, taking in the site of the dwarf pair. Hoggle fidgeted absentmindedly with the plastic bracelet on his wrist that Sarah had given him years earlier and Squashblossom looked at him adoringly.

"Wow," Sarah said with a laugh. "It's really nice to meet you, Squashblossom. And Hoggle, I'm happy for you!"

"I'm sure this is very sweet and all," the Goblin King groaned, "but we're wasting precious time here. Where is Sir Didymus?

"He said he didn't think you would want him to leave his post," answered Hoggle with a frown. "And of course Ludo wasn't going anywhere without his brother."

The Goblin King sighed. At least he had the dwarves, as ridiculous as they were.

"Fine," he ceded. "Let's sit down, shall we?"

Several minutes later the group was seated on the large leather sofas in the ornate library. Tea and pastries had been brought in by one of the servants, a small dark man with shining black hair. He set the tray of pastries down on a table and bowed before the Goblin King waved him away.

As hostess, the Goblin King himself poured the tea, speaking calmly as he filled the delicate cups with dark fragrant liquid.

"I have been trying to explain our current situation to our friend Sarah," he said. Sarah wrinkled up her nose at his referring to her as his friend. The Goblin King noticed, but chose to ignore it and continued. "Clever thing that she is, she managed to find something in the desert that may be able to help us."

His patronizing tone grated on her nerves and Sarah gritted her teeth as Squashblossom looked at her expectantly. "You have?" she asked. "What is it?"

"I—I don't know," Sarah answered truthfully. "His Majesty seems to know more about it than I do and is convinced that it has some kind of power that can stop whatever evil is threatening you."

"Hoggle," purred the Goblin King, "Would you be so kind as to fill dear Sarah in on what is threatening to overrun the Underground?"

The little dwarf took a gulp of tea before addressing her.

"It's the evil slime," he told Sarah. "At first we thought it was just th'Bog creepin' out o' its banks. But it ain't. It's comin' up from the land itself. The ground shakes and the nasty stuff spews out and it's startin' to take over everything!"

"It's not just taking over everything," chimed in Hoggle's wife. "It leaves nothin' behind. Only stinky muck. It swallows everything in its path. Even livin' creatures," she added sadly.

"That's awful," said Sarah, imagining the horror of unstoppable slime that absorbed land and creatures alike without mercy. "But what is it exactly?"

"We think it's-" Hoggle began, but the Goblin King silenced him with a look.

"We don't know for certain," Jareth answered. "However, I do know that there is only one kind of magic strong enough to quell it."

"And you think the piece I found is the key to finding it," offered Sarah.

"Precisely," the Goblin King replied.

"But what exactly did I find?" Sarah asked.

"I can't discuss that in present company," Jareth told her. He looked disdainfully at Hoggle and Squashblossom.

"Hey, you're the one who summoned us," the little dwarf cried angrily. "If you don't want us here, we'll leave. I gots lotsa things to attend to anyway."

Hoggle and Squashblossom stood and turned to Sarah. "Be careful, Sarah," he told her. "He ain't ever up to no good."

"Bye Sarah," his wife said sweetly. "It was so nice to finally meet you."

"Bye," Sarah said to the pair as the Goblin King waved his hand again and they faded into nothingness.

Jareth sat back in his seat and eyed Sarah for a moment, watching as she picked up one of the sweets from the tray and popped it into her mouth, the honey from the treat glossing her pink lips. She noticed him staring at her and turned away.

"So?" he asked finally.

"What?"

"Are you willing to help me?"

"Tell me first what this thing is," Sarah told him. She reached into her pocket and drew out the fragment of gold. The Goblin King's eyes grew wide as he gazed at it. He had almost forgotten what it looked like. The fragment itself was alluring. The completed _Anima vasa_ was beyond compare, a thing of beauty and dark power, much like its owner. He remembered the way it had trembled in his hand the first time it had come into his possession. It was a repository of dreams and nightmares and memories.

_I've brought you a gift... If you look into it, it will show you your dreams._

"It is called the _Anima vasa,"_ the Goblin King told her. "When complete, it unlocks a power greater than even the Morrigan possesses."

"Which is all the more reason it should be returned to me," a voice hissed from the back of the room.

Sarah and the Goblin King turned to see an incredibly beautiful woman with dark red hair standing behind them. The woman wore an ebony cloak that draped off her shoulders and hung to the floor. She smiled wickedly at them as she approached.

"Give that to me," she said, holding out a pale hand to Sarah.

"Don't give it to her," ordered the Goblin King. "Whatever you do, don't let her get her hands on it."

"No shit, Glinda," spat Sarah. She looked up at the woman who seemed oddly familiar and searched her memory. She hadn't met her in the Labyrinth. Where?

"Sarah," the woman hissed, snapping Sarah from her thoughts. "You don't know what that thing is or how to use it. It has the power to destroy you and can only be trusted to someone like me. You remember your Goddess, don't you?"

Sarah shook her head, fighting for the memory that seemed just beyond her reach. She felt a cool hand slip into hers.

"Hold tight to me," Jareth whispered into her ear sending a shudder down her spine.

"I still don't trust you," Sarah told him.

He chuckled. "Sarah dear, you don't have to. Just hold tight."

Sarah did as she was told, grasping his hand tightly as the woman advanced on them. The room around them began to shimmer and spin until suddenly it and the woman disappeared, replaced by a dark corridor of concrete block walls.

"Run," the Goblin King told her, releasing her hand.

Sarah followed him as he sprinted down the corridor, through a large metal door and then out into the night. He ran down a path to a covered pavilion where a small jeep was parked. He hopped into the driver's seat and Sarah barely had time to scramble into the passenger's seat before he sped away into the dark streets.

Inside, the Goddess waved her arms around her body and a group of Fae soldiers appeared around her.

"Search the compound," she commanded. "He's not strong enough to transport them both very far."

After the Fae guard had thoroughly ransacked the estate, killing everyone they found, they returned to the Goddess.

"They are not here," the leader of the guard quavered. "They have escaped."

The Goddess struck him down where he stood, reducing him to dust. She stalked over to the table and picked up the tea tray and hurled it at the wall where it exploded into a thousand pieces with a satisfying crash. Straightening her cloak, she turned away and stormed from the room.

"It's just as well," she said calmly. "That ridiculous girl and that trifling king of the goblins won't be hard to follow in their hunt for the _Anima vasa._ And once they find it, I'll use it to destroy them both!"


	5. Sanctuary

"I don't know what that rat is plannin' with Sarah, but I don't trust him," grumbled Hoggle. He, Squashblossom, Sir Didymus, and Ludo had gathered in what the knight called his "war room" to discuss the latest news and assess the situation regarding the invading sludge. Ambrosius was posted at the door to keep watch, but had instead fallen asleep and was snoring loudly from his spot on the floor.

"I know Jareth ain't up to no good," Hoggle continued. "He says Sarah's found somethin' but wouldn't say for sure what it is or what it does. Seems a bit suspicious to me."

"It is a king's prerogative to not discuss matters of state with his subjects, friend Hoggle," Sir Didymus reminded the dwarf. "I am certain that whatever plan His Majesty is formulating with Lady Sarah is one of brilliant strategy and as such must be kept under the strictest confidence."

"Hmph," grunted Hoggle.

Squashblossom laid a hand on her husband's arm. "Yes," she said. "Besides, it was very clear t'me that Sarah don't trust him much neither. If she's anything like the stories you've all told, she'll keep 'im in line and see that he does right by her and us."

"It ain't just that, Sweetums," Hoggle argued. "Them two have a history of not quite tellin' everything they know. It's caused nothing but trouble for everybody within the borders of the Labyrinth."

"Be that as it may," tutted Sir Didymus, "We simply must wait on His Majesty. In the meantime, perhaps we should build another wall on the northernmost border since the last one fell prey to the foul mire."

Ludo, who had been mostly silent up to that point groaned and shook his head.

"What is it, dear Brother?" asked the knight.

"No more rocks," Ludo answered. "Can't build."

"Well then," Sir Didymus said adjusting his waistcoat, "Anyone for a game of Scrabble?"

* * *

Jareth's jeep bounced lightly over the rutted ancient roads as he and Sarah sped away from Kerak. His magic wasn't strong enough to transport them off the compound, but even if it had been, the Goddess could have easily traced his magic's signature. Traveling by vehicle, they left no trace other than the cloud of dust that quickly settled behind them. And besides that, Jareth found driving relaxing.

Sarah watched him as they raced along. It perplexed her that such a mundane action, driving a car, could seem so strange when the steering wheel was in the hands of the king of the goblins. He kept his eyes forward, oblivious to her confused staring and after a while she settled back in her seat and watched the night rolling past the window.

"Are we going to talk about what happened back there?" Sarah asked at length.

"I thought it was obvious," Jareth answered. "We have something the Morrigan wants."

"No no no," Sarah scoffed. " _We_ don't have anything. _I_ have something Mad-Magic-Lady wants. The only reason I'm with you right now is because I figured you were slightly less dangerous company than her."

Jareth slammed on the brakes, throwing Sarah forward. Fortunately her seatbelt prevented her from smacking face first into the dashboard.

"Would you like to get out?" he asked, his nostrils flaring.

"No," Sarah reluctantly answered. "I just feel trapped, Your Majesty."

"You've no idea," mumbled Jareth as he released the brake and the jeep moved forward. "Sarah, if we're going to go on this little adventure together you might as well call me by my name. Normally I prefer to be addressed in the formal fashion, but since we're now on the run, I can't have you following me about calling me 'Your Majesty.' You do remember what my name is, don't you?"

"No," Sarah lied. Of course she knew what it was. It was one thing she'd been certain to always remember, even when other details of her trip through the Labyrinth had grown hazy around the edges. She'd been careful never to say it aloud, but she had often whispered his name in her head. It was only a recent development that she'd begun waking herself up (and everyone else around) by screaming out his name.

"My name is Jareth," he told her as the jeep continued to jostle along. "I think perhaps at one time there was a surname to go with it, but I've forgotten what it is, so just Jareth will do."

"Right," Sarah said, settling back once again in her seat. "So, Just Jareth, where are we going?"

The Goblin King gave her a sideways glance before answering. "We're going across the border. There is a stronghold in Jerusalem, a safehouse of sorts. We can rest and possibly get some information there."

"A safehouse. In Jerusalem?" Sarah asked.

"Yes, why not?"

"I don't know, it just seems impractical. I mean, really? A Fae hideout at the crossroads of three giant world religions?"

"That's precisely the idea," the Goblin King told her. "Everyone there is so busy fighting over their Big-G deity and his prophets that they pay us absolutely no attention whatsoever. We're chickens hiding in a camp of vegans."

They shared a brief laugh together before settling into silence. Jareth drove quietly through the desert and Sarah, exhausted from the events of the day and lulled by the motion of the jeep, finally dozed off.

* * *

_"I—I wish to give you something," Sarah said, her voice shaking._

_Jareth took her chin in his hand and lifted her face to meet his gaze. "What is it?" he asked._

_"My name," she replied. "My name is Sarah."_

_He stared deeply into her eyes for moment before tightly grasping her and crushing his mouth to hers. He kissed her feverishly and she returned his kisses in kind._

_"Sarah," he gasped between breathless kisses. "Sarah."_

_"Jareth..."_

Bright sunlight was pouring through the jeep window when Sarah awoke and she snapped her eyes shut against the blinding glare. She was vaguely aware that the jeep had stopped moving.

"Interesting dream, Sarah dear?" cooed a familiar voice.

Sarah opened one eye and looked toward the driver's seat where Jareth was gazing at her with an amused expression on his face.

"None of your business," she replied groggily and rubbed her eyes with the heels of her hands.

"As you say," chuckled the Goblin King. He opened his door and stepped out of the jeep and stretched. Sarah moved to follow him, but realized she was still barefoot.

"Your Maj—I mean, Jareth, I don't have any shoes," she called out to him from her seat in the jeep.

"There is a large green bag behind your seat," Jareth called back. I have a spare pair of boots in there. Put them on and hurry up. I'll be inside. Bring the bag with you when you come." He turned away and glided up to the door of an imposing brown stuccoed building.

Sarah cursed as she watched him knock on the door. The door opened a crack and Jareth spoke to whoever was behind it, turning briefly and motioning to where she sat in the jeep. She fumbled behind her seat for the green bag, dragged it over the seat and opened it. The boots were placed snugly on top, but Sarah couldn't help but sneak a peek at the rest of the bag's contents. Rummaging quickly though the duffel bag she found a number of passports, no doubt helpful in getting through border crossings, a thick wad of cash, and a strange assortment of pages scribbled in a language she didn't recognize. Not wanting to sit out on the street for too long, Sarah hurriedly pulled on the sturdy boots and stuffed everything else back into the duffel bag. She stepped out of the jeep and looked around.

The city of Jerusalem sprawled around her from every side, a strange mix of centuries-old buildings and modern high-rises, shining new luxury vehicles and people on foot who looked as if they had stepped out of a history book. The streets hummed with the activity of buyers and sellers and tourists snapping pictures and children kicking a soccer ball on a patch of grass. On the temple mount overlooking the city, the golden dome of the ancient mosque glittered in the morning sun.

"Sarah," barked Jareth from the door of the stuccoed building. She turned away from the city scene and stalked over to the door, lugging the bag with her and muttering under her breath. Jareth led her past the doorman, a handsome though ordinary-looking man from the front, but with a long, crooked tail protruding from the back of his gray pants. The front entrance opened into a spacious gallery dotted with tables and chairs and plush burgundy sofas. Large fans with blades in the shape of palm leaves whirred overhead providing a welcome respite from the dry heat outside.

"Jareth dear!" squealed a high-pitched female voice. A tall, wispy woman with blonde hair and impossibly blue eyes appeared from a corridor and rushed toward them. She wore a flowy crème-colored dress with intricate stitching along the neckline and waistband. Her feet were bare.

Sarah stepped out of the way as the woman embraced Jareth and kissed his cheeks. "I had hoped you would find your way back here," she told him. Finally taking notice of Sarah, the woman held out her hand to her.

"Hello," she said with a smile. "I'm Laurel, one of His Majesty's subjects."

"Former subjects," the Goblin King corrected. "You chose to leave, remember?"

Laurel leaned forward and kissed his cheek again. "Don't be sore at me forever, Jareth. I can't help that I fell in love."

Jareth rolled his eyes at Laurel, then smiled to show he was joking.

Sarah stepped out in front of the Goblin King and addressed Laurel. "I'm Sarah," she said.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Sarah," Laurel gushed. "Let me go see about some rooms for you two and later we can talk, okay? she asked.

"Thank you," Jareth told her.

"A former subject?" Sarah asked when Laurel had gone.

"Yes," replied Jareth. "She was wished away as a young girl. Poor girl's sister didn't even try to win her back. She lived in the sanctuary of the Underground until she was of age. She left with my blessing and traveled until she met up with a daemon and decided to marry him. She and her husband bought this old abbey from a group of Christian nuns and opened it up as a safehouse for any of Otherkind who are displaced or in need of sanctuary. Funny thing is, the nuns are still here."

"Wait, what?" Sarah asked.

"Oh yes, they've been here since the last war when..."

"No, I'm meant the part about Laurel being wished away. Why isn't she a goblin?"

"Sarah, what are you talking about?"

"You know," Sarah began, "That whole thing about me beating the Labyrinth or my baby brother being turned into a goblin?"

Jareth sighed and shook his head. "Sarah, I never said that," he told her and she couldn't miss the bite in his voice. "I said your brother would be one of us forever. A citizen of the Underground. Not Fae, but not mortal. Honestly, why would I punish a wished-away child whose only crime was being born the poor sibling to a selfish, spoiled brat of a sister?!"

"For your information-" Sarah was on the verge of giving him a good tongue-lashing when Laurel reappeared to whisk them off to their accommodations.

"Let's get you two situated so you can get refreshed and feel better," Laurel said too brightly. "You're obviously a bit road-weary."

Jareth and Sarah remained silent as Laurel led them down a carpeted hallway, but the tension between them hung thick and heavy like a dust storm. Laurel showed them to two adjoining rooms that shared one large bathroom and Sarah stepped into her room and began closing the door without even a backward glance. A booted foot placed between the door and its jamb prevented her from slamming it shut.

"May I have my bag?" Jareth asked. Sarah shoved it at him without a word before closing the door in his face.

"Thank you," he said to the closed door.

* * *

The bathroom was equipped with a shower large enough for two people, but Sarah was grateful to have it all to herself. She turned under the shower head, letting the frigid water wash away the sweat and road grime that seemed to cover every inch of her skin. She ran her fingers through her hair, loosening the tangles and snags. The water washed over her arms and legs soothing the muscles that ached from the long ride in the cramped jeep on bumpy desert roads.

"Sarah," the Goblin King's voice called from just outside the shower. Sarah jumped back, instinctively covering her private areas with her hands.

Jareth made no attempt to move any closer, but remained just outside the shower's patterned curtain.

"What do you want?" Sarah called out to him.

"I thought you might want to change clothes," he said. "Laurel and I were able to find a few pieces you may find suitable. I'll leave them on the counter for you."

Hearing no answer from the shower, he turned to leave, but paused when he heard the squeak of the faucet being turned off. Sarah stuck her wet head out of the curtain.

"Thanks," she said.

Jareth gave a nod and turned toward the door.

"Jareth," Sarah called after him. "I want to help you—I mean, my friends. I know I've been difficult, but surely you can understand that this is quite an adjustment for me."

"I understand, Sarah," Jareth said gently, turning back to face her. "But we don't have the luxury of time. I can't coax you and coddle you when my kingdom is under threat. I need your help, but I won't beg for it. I'll be as generous as I must, but you've got to at least attempt to meet me halfway."

"I'll try," Sarah answered sheepishly.

"If we're going to make it out of this alive, you're going to have to do far more than try, Sarah."

* * *

The clothes were more than suitable. The effervescent Laurel had found Sarah a rather nice ensemble: comfortable khaki pants that tied at the waist, a light blue linen button-down shirt and a pair of stylish yet practical shoes. There was even an assortment of underthings and Sarah picked out the more sensible pieces and slipped them on. She dressed in the outfit provided and headed back down to the gallery per Jareth's instructions. He and Laurel and her husband, who Sarah recognized as the doorman, were already waiting at a table when she arrived.

The two men stood when Sarah approached and Sarah couldn't help but notice Jareth's eyes flicking quickly over her figure as she took her seat. She noted that he'd changed his clothes as well and was wearing a simple white button-down shirt and dark pants. She'd never seen him in modern clothing before, but they somehow suited him. Even his hair was more modern, still white blonde, but hanging in loose waves just above his shoulders.

"Sarah, this is my husband Jasper," Laurel said motioning to the man beside her. He took Sarah's hand and placed a delicate kiss on it. "A pleasure, Sarah," he said before seating himself.

"Jareth has been telling us about the little run-in the two of you had with the Morrigan," Laurel told Sarah. "That woman is absolutely dreadful. I can't tell you how many Otherfolk have had to seek refuge here from one of her tantrums."

"This is more than a tantrum, Laurel," said Jareth. "She's always despised me and even refused aid to my kingdom out of sheer spite. If she thinks I've got something over on her, she'll stop at nothing to thwart me."

"What is it exactly that you've got?" asked Jasper.

Jareth nodded to Sarah and she laid the ancient gold fragment on the table.

"It's called the _Anima vasa,"_ the Goblin King told Laurel and Jasper. "This is only one piece of it, but it alone has its own magic. As a whole, it can unlock a powerful magic. A dark magic."

_"Anima vasa,_ a soul vessel?" asked Sarah.

"Of course you know your Latin," said Jareth. He fumbled in his shirt pocket and brought out a cigarette and lighter. He lit the cigarette and took a long drag before leaning his head back and exhaling a long puff of smoke toward the ceiling. "That's not exactly what it is though," he continued.

"What is it then?" Laurel asked.

Jareth took another drag from his cigarette and blew circles of smoke over the table.

"Salvation," he said at last.

Jasper studied the little gold piece, turning it in his hands and examining the markings around its edges. "These characters look Punic," he said.

"Yes," replied Jareth. "They are an early derivative, an ancient language long forgotten by most."

"If you're looking for someone with expertise in ancient gold," Laurel chimed in, "You should call on Barnabus Alexander."

"Who?" Asked Jareth and Sarah in unison.

"Barnabus Alexander," Laurel repeated. "He works for Chrysus as his personal buyer. If anyone has seen anything like this, it would be him."

"Where can I find this fellow?" Jareth asked as he knocked a pillar of ash from his cigarette and into a white plastic ashtray.

"He lives on a small Greek island that's only accessible by boat," answered Jasper. "However, you'll need an invitation to even get onto the island."

Sarah picked up the gold fragment and held it up for the group to see. "Oh, I think we can score an invitation fairly easily," she told them.

"Absolutely," Jareth said with a smile.

* * *


	6. A Parliament of Owls

The sun was spreading sparkles of gold over the bright sapphire waters of the Mediterranean when the plane from Tel Aviv landed in Athens, Greece. Sarah and Jareth, carrying only one bag between them and armed with phony passports, easily glided through airport security. The flight was a short one, only two hours, but unable to smoke, Jareth was fidgety and anxious as the plane soared over the bright blue ocean. Once they reached their destination, he was quick to pull out his pack of Marlboros and light up.

"I've arranged to meet up with an old friend of mine," Jareth told Sarah as they walked from the terminal to the taxi stand outside. "Min will put us up for the night and tomorrow we can get passage to the island where Barnabas Alexander lives."

A taxi pulled up in front of them and Sarah and Jareth climbed in. Jareth gave the driver an address and the taxi sped off down the narrow streets toward the heart of Athens.

"How do you plan to contact this Alexander guy?" Sarah asked. "I kind of doubt he's listed in the phone book."

"No," answered Jareth. "We have our ways though, Sarah. Once he hears what we're offering, he'll find _us._ "

The taxi careened around a tight curve slinging Sarah hard against the Goblin King's chest.

"Sorry!" the driver yelled to them in heavily accented English.

" _Kai páli parakaló, allá dóste mia mikrí proeidopoíisi,"_ Jareth told the driver.

The driver chuckled and turned and winked before banking the taxi hard to the left and screeching to a stop. Jareth and Sarah were thrown to the other side, with Sarah landing on her back and Jareth falling directly on top of her.

"Ouch! Dammit, Jareth. Get off me," Sarah groaned as she squirmed beneath his weight.

"Not if you keep writhing like that, Sarah," Jareth purred.

"Why you perverted-"

The taxi door whooshed open and Sarah could hear a woman's laughter just outside the vehicle.

"Oh my, Jareth," said the voice. "This brings back some fond memories."

Finally hefting himself off of Sarah, the Goblin King slid gracefully out of the seat. As Sarah sat up and straightened herself she was at last able to see the source of the voice. An incredibly beautiful woman with long golden hair and turquoise eyes was standing at the door of the taxi. She embraced Jareth and kissed him full on the mouth and he returned the kiss eagerly. Sarah groaned inwardly and turned away from the scene, choosing to look instead at her surroundings.

The taxi had stopped in front of a three-story building brick building that was nearly hidden under a thick layer of flowering wisteria. Among the twisting vines, the faces of marble statues peeked out at the street and seemed to reach out to passers-by.

"You must be Sarah Williams," the woman said, leaning down into the taxi. She offered Sarah a hand and helped her out of the vehicle.

"I'm Min," she said when Sarah stood before her. "Jareth is an old friend of mine."

"I see," Sarah mumbled under her breath.

"Come inside and get comfortable," Min said as they ascended the steps into the wisteria-covered building and entered the foyer. The room was dominated by an enormous staircase with carved mahogany banisters that spiraled up three floors. The ceiling above was stained glass and the afternoon light poured down on them bathing them all in a rainbow of colors. Min led them into the parlor, a cozy room with tapestried walls and Turkish sofas heaped with ornate cushions.

"Please have a seat," Min said, motioning toward one of the sofas. "I'll get us some refreshment."

Sarah and Jareth took a seat on one of the plush sofas as Min moved to the wet bar at the other side of the room.

"An old friend, huh?" Sarah whispered sarcastically.

"Yes, of course," answered Jareth. "Do you not greet your friends with a kiss?"

"Not with tongue," said Sarah.

Jareth laughed. "You must not have the right kinds of friends."

Min returned with martinis for Sarah and herself and a Tom Collins for Jareth. He grinned appreciatively at his old friend.

"You remembered," he said.

"Of course, _Babau_ ," Min answered sweetly, placing a perfectly manicured hand on Jareth's knee.

"So where are we supposed to find Barnabas Alexander?" Sarah blurted, annoyed by the woman's familiarity with Jareth but unwilling to admit it, even to herself.

Min took a dainty sip of her martini before answering. "He lives on a private island not far from here," she told them. "Though I can't imagine why you would want to find a man like that. He's detestable!"

Sarah produced the curved piece of gold from her pocket and showed it to Min. "We're looking for the rest of this," she said.

Min's eyes grew wide as she looked first at the gold piece and then at Jareth who had turned away and was carefully studying his cocktail.

"Jareth," she said in barely a whisper, "Is that what I think it is?"

The Goblin King finally looked up and nodded. "It's a piece of the _Anima vasa,"_ he admitted.

"But how-" Min started to ask but Jareth interrupted her, standing and snatching it from Sarah's hands.

"Sarah found it in the desert," he said as he paced around the room. "It called to her. Naturally, it called to others as well, namely the Morrigan. She's been hot on our heels to get it. I need to meet with Alexander to see if there may be more of it still around. I can't let it fall into the wrong hands."

He tossed the piece back to Sarah and she neatly caught it and slipped it back into her pocket.

There was a long, strained pause between the group before Min spoke again.

"I can get a message to Alexander," she said quietly. "He'll no doubt be interested in what you have."

* * *

Sarah and Jareth joined Min later for a dinner of roasted lamb with vegetables and tomatoes stuffed with seasoned rice. They all ate heartily and tried to keep the conversation light, but Sarah could sense a growing tension between Min and Jareth. She knew he had not been fully truthful with Min concerning their search for the _Anima vasa,_ but she could only wonder about how much Min actually knew about it. What was Jareth hiding from Min? What was he hiding from _her_? Sarah knew better than to trust Jareth, a known trickster. As much as she wanted to help her friends in the Underground, the situation was growing steadily more ominous. Sarah knew she must remain vigilant in order to keep herself safe and obtain more information, so she was suspicious when Min handed her a glass of dark red liquid after dinner.

"What is it?" Sarah asked.

"It's a _digestif_ that is very popular where I am from," Min answered. "It's quite nice after a large meal."

Sarah smiled and accepted the glass, but didn't drink it. Instead she pretended to sip it as she and Jareth and Min made small talk, secretly pouring it bit by bit into one of the decorative urns in the parlor. Sarah knew she'd been right not to drink the liquid when her feigned yawn brought a smile to Min's lips.

_"Time to resurrect your acting chops, Williams,"_ Sarah told herself. She knew that Min and Jareth would not talk freely as long as she was with them and conscious. She yawned again and leaned back on the large sofa and closed her eyes. Min and Jareth continued to chatter on about nothing in particular, but there were pauses in their conversation where Sarah was sure they were studying her.

"She's sleeping," Jareth said at last.

"Are you certain?" asked Min.

"You gave her the elixir and she drank it."

"All right, _Babau"_ said Min, "What is all this really about?"

Jareth took a drag from a cigarette and blew smoke in Sarah's direction. It took all her strength not to cough.

"My kingdom is in danger," he told his friend.

"So I've heard," said Min.

"Then you also know that I've been refused aid by the Fae Council."

"Is that why you're after the _Anima vasa_?"

"Yes, and the Goddess wants to stop me," said Jareth. "She would love to see the Goblin Kingdom vanish from the Otherrealm. Ever since I defied her for Sarah's sake she's vowed revenge on me."

" _Babau_ ," cooed Min. "You tried to do a noble thing then. What are you doing now? Does Sarah know what the _Anima vasa_ is?"

"No," Jareth answered flatly.

"Are you going to tell her?"

"If we manage to find the rest of it, she'll find out on her own."

"She'll hate you, Jareth."

"Pah," grunted the Goblin King. "At this point I no longer care. I've offered my heart to her twice and twice she shattered it. I don't give a damn what she thinks of me."

"Oh come now _, Babau,"_ said Min. "I know you still care for her. I can see it in the way you look at her."

"It doesn't matter now what I feel or don't feel," Jareth replied glumly. "The Underground is in danger and I'll do whatever is necessary to save it."

"You'll even do to her what she did to you?" Min argued.

Jareth remained silent but took the last long drag from his cigarette before extinguishing it in a small ashtray.

"Min, Brigantia, Athena," he began as he blew gray smoke over the room, "I'll destroy her if I must."

Min sighed. "The Morrigan is turning heaven and earth trying to find you."

"Yes," said Jareth. "We've been traveling under the magical radar, so to speak." He paused and gave Min a sly smile. "Are you going to turn me in?"

"As much as I love seeing you in handcuffs, _Babau,_ I have no love for the Tuatha De Danann. But I dislike aiding you in this deception."

"I only need you to get me to Alexander," Jareth argued. "There is no guarantee that he knows anything about the _Anima vasa,_ if that will ease your conscience. This may be a wild goose chase."

"Wild geese or not, you're putting a lot of people in danger with this course of action," warned Min. "You would be wise to-"

Jareth put up his hand to stop her. "You are the wise one, Min," he said. "I am the desperate one. I have no time to quibble over what is right and good and decent. I must do what I can, even if you find it morally lacking."

Min shook her head. "In the past I might have delighted in your loose morals, but Jareth... now I only see more heartache...for both of you. Haven't you hurt each other enough?"

Jareth grunted and leaned back and stared at the ceiling, remembering a rain-soaked plain, an ancient book, and a woman on trial. He'd loved her and granted her freedom from her curse with the belief that she would stay with him. She had not. She had flown away and left him a wreck.

" _Babau,_ Jareth," Min whispered to him, peering into his dark thoughts "She had been corrupted by the Morrigan's power then. She didn't know how to love."

"And what of our next meeting?" Jareth asked, still staring at the ceiling. "I offered her the truth and would have poured it all out at her feet, yet she refused it. Refused me."

"She didn't understand what you were offering. She was young and innocent then, Jareth. Perhaps now-"

"Damn it, Min," spat Jareth as he jumped up from his seat and rounded on her. "She's not a fucking bowl of porridge. She isn't _just right_ this time. I'm tired of this story and of her. I just want to go home and be left alone!"

"Then why did you seek her help?" Min asked quietly.

Jareth flopped back down into his seat. "Because," he said, "She's the only one who can stop the dark magic that's overrunning my kingdom."

"Why is that?"

"Because it's _her_ magic."

* * *

Sarah lay awake in a dark guestroom of Min's house. The bed was large and luxurious, but the conversation she had been privy to earlier played over and over in her head, making it impossible for her to sleep. Min, who was obviously more than an "old friend" to Jareth, had seemingly taken up defense for her, but why and from what? The conversation made no sense. What had Min meant about her being corrupted by the Morrigan? What was it that Jareth had offered her after she had defeated him? The more Sarah tried to make sense of it, the more confused she became.

She had known from the beginning not to trust the Goblin King, but could only wonder what kind of horrors he would be willing to submit her to in order to get what he wanted. He had told Min that he would destroy her if necessary. Sarah shuddered at the thought. She'd seen glimpses of his dark power when she'd run his twisting maze.

"But what about _my_ dark magic?" she wondered. Jareth had told Min that whatever power was absorbing the Underground was connected to her, but how?

" _But what no one knew was this: The King of the Goblins had fallen in love with her, and given her certain powers..."_

"Is that it?" Sarah thought. Had Jareth given her magic that she was unaware of? Magic that he desperately wanted back and would do anything to get?

The questions rolled on and on unanswered in Sarah's mind until sleep finally overtook her.

* * *

" _My name is Sarah."_

_"Sarah. Sarah." He was whispering her name over and over. His breath was hot against the sensitive shell of her ear, his body slick against hers. Her legs were wrapped tightly around his waist, her blood red nails digging into the pale skin of his back as he buried himself deep in her center. She moaned and arched into him as he moved inside her, drawing her ever closer to the edge of glorious oblivion. The pace of his thrusting quickened and his name danced on her lips. She bit it back unable, unwilling to utter it until finally lights and colors burst around her head and his name poured out of her even as he filled her with himself._

_"Jareth!"_

* * *

Sarah sat upright in the bed, his name still tingling on her lips and the memory of him still throbbing between her legs. She was drenched in sweat and her heart was racing from the erotic dream. She slid out of bed and on wobbly legs made her way to the bathroom.

"What is wrong with you, Sarah?" she asked herself as she splashed water over her flushed face. Nightmares about Jareth seemed almost normal, but sexual dreams involving him were new and dangerous territory. In her opinion, he always had been far too interested in her dreams and she wondered if the "No Power Over Me" clause had any loopholes regarding nighttime visions. The dream had, after all, been incredibly real. She had felt him, the weight of him on top of her and the searing length of him inside of her.

Sarah turned back to the sink and splashed more cold water on her face. She had long ago come to terms with the fact that Jareth would always be her first sexual fantasy. She had scarcely looked twice at men before her run through the Labyrinth. She'd had the usual teenage crushes, but they were innocent, sexless. After that fateful encounter with the king of the goblins however, that had changed. He had awakened something in her and she found herself yearning to explore her body, her thoughts wandering to the lithe form of the Otherworldly king. He'd been in her thoughts that night in the shower when, at 17 years old, she'd brought herself to her first orgasm. She had almost let his name slip past her lips as she collapsed, panting against the shower wall.

Sarah switched off the bathroom light and made her way back to bed. She lifted her pillow and lightly caressed the ancient gold fragment beneath it, wondering what it truly was and how it was connected to her. She knew that whatever Jareth wanted from her: power or sex or both, the situation was volatile at best. His power could destroy her, and somehow she felt fairly certain that sex with him could do the very same thing.


	7. A Beautiful Pea-Green Boat

"Hello, Minerva dear."

"Hello, Morrigan," said Min.

"You don't look surprised at all to see me," the goddess said. She was stretched casually across one of Min's Turkish parlor sofas with a cocktail in her hand. Min didn't try to hide her displeasure as she entered the room.

"I knew you would come calling on me soon," she said, calmly crossing over to the window.

The Morrigan sat up, annoyed by Min's nonchalance. "Then you know why I'm here," she said coolly.

"Yes," Min answered. " I know you're looking for Jareth."

"Where is he and that wretched girl?" The Morrigan demanded.

Min kept her gaze on the street outside the parlor window. "I don't know," she lied. "I haven't seen him."

"You're lying!" spat the Morrigan as she jumped up from the sofa. "I know they were here. I can smell them."

"You can do nothing of the sort," Min told her with an exasperated sigh.

The Morrigan stalked over to where Min stood and leaned in close behind her. "Why are you protecting him, Min? she asked. "You know he's thrown you over for that deceitful girl."

Min laughed and turned to face her. "Oh yes, and I'm utterly heartbroken," she said sarcastically. "But you know all about that, don't you?"

The Morrigan backed away, scowling. "How dare you," she cursed.

Min laughed again. "After all these years are you still angry at him for spurning you?"

"He never spurned me," the Morrigan shot back. "He tried to charm me into his bed."

"Yes, and all to get his hands on the _Anima vasa_ which you so desperately seek now," said Min. "He made a fool of you, Morrigan and almost exposed your little secret to your Fae Council, didn't he?"

The Morrigan stomped back toward the door, fuming. "You know nothing of Fae matters, Athena Apatouros," she spat.

"No, and I care nothing for them either," sneered Min. "You'll get no help from me, little goddess."

Min waved her hand and the Morrigan vanished, transported instantly back to her dark chamber in the Other-realm. Furious at her abrupt dismissal, the Morrigan stalked over to her table of potions and overturned it, sending vials and scrolls crashing to the stone floor. She screamed curses as she stepped over the mess and dissolved down into the form of a crow. With a loud angry caw, she flapped her wings and flew out the chamber window.

* * *

Sarah leaned her head back against the railing of the little boat as it bobbed and bounced over the sea. The day was clear and the water rippled in gentle waves that rocked the boat cradle-like, from side to side. On the other side of the boat, the soft strumming of guitar strings could be heard playing against the slapping of the waves on the side of the boat in a gentle counterpoint. She looked up at where Jareth sat slowly gliding his fingers over the strings of the instrument. His face was calm and he was smiling. He seemed so at ease and Sarah realized she had never seen him that way before. He looked almost human with his angled features so relaxed. Sarah didn't realize she was staring until Jareth smiled at her. She quickly turned away and looked out over the sea, thinking about what Min had told her just before they had boarded the little boat.

"Forgive him," she'd whispered into Sarah's ear as she embraced her and pulled her close.

Sarah shook her head at the memory. She really held no grudge against Jareth for what happened with Toby. After all, he had only done what she had asked. Of course, he had cheated a bit, sent the Cleaners after her and given her a drugged peach, but he hadn't _hurt_ her. Then there was the part about him sending armed men to kidnap her, but even then she doubted that the Goblin King would have allowed anything to happen to her. He seemed to genuinely need her help, and though she still didn't trust him any further than she could throw him, she really bore no ill will toward him.

She looked over at him again and he winked at her and sang.

_"Oh, lovely Pussy,_

_Oh, Pussy my love!_

_What a beautiful Pussy you are!"_

"What?!" cried Sarah. "What kind of disgusting-"

Jareth stopped playing and looked at her with feigned innocence.

"Sarah," he cooed. "It's a child's nursery song. Do get your mind out of the gutter."

"Okay," thought Sarah, flustered and blushing. "Maybe a little ill will."

A short while later, the boat reached the private island of Barnabas Alexander and Sarah and Jareth were led from the dock up to a large stone mansion. The huge house stood out against the peaceful island scenery like a peacock among mourning doves. The mansion's walls and windows were with edged with gold and there were two large gilded staircases descending from either side of the imposing structure.

"Wow," Sarah said to herself. "I thought Jareth was gaudy."

"It's a bit ostentatious, isn't it," Jareth asked, echoing her thoughts. "I suppose when your Master is Chrysus, frippery comes with the territory."

After going through a security checkpoint, a servant guided them into the mansion and through an enormous room that shone from floor to ceiling with gold. They passed through a long golden hall before exiting through two huge gilt French doors and out to a gold-tiled patio beside a gold-rimmed swimming pool. The servant left them at the pool's edge and approached a man lying on a golden lounge chair. The man looked over at them as the servant spoke and then he stood and approached.

Sarah shuddered as the man waddled over to them. He was deeply tanned and quite obese. He was also naked except for tiny gold bikini bottoms that were nearly hidden under his immense belly. He took off his gold-framed sunglasses and stood in front of Sarah, smiling lasciviously.

Sarah felt her stomach turn as his eyes moved over her, taking in the way her crisp white pants hugged the curve of her hips and lingering on the bit of cleavage that peeked out from her bright blue tank top. Sarah immediately wished that Min had given her something that covered her up a little more.

"Like a snowsuit," Sarah thought, crossing her arms over her bosom.

"Hello, my dear," said the man in a heavily affected accent. He extended a pudgy hand to Sarah, ignoring Jareth's presence entirely. "Welcome to _Nisi Chryso._ I am Barnabas Alexander." He took Sarah's hand and laid a sloppy wet kiss on the back of it.

Jareth cleared his throat and stepped between Sarah and the fat man. "I am Jay LeRoi," he said, grabbing Alexander's hand and pumping it up and down. "I believe my associate spoke to you on the phone."

"Oh yes," replied Alexander, "and I'm interested in seeing what you have, but at the moment, I'd like you to introduce me to this stunning creature." He nodded his head toward Sarah and she inwardly cringed.

Jareth laughed and slapped Alexander on the back. "Of course," he began. "This is my sister, Sarah."

"Sarah," Alexander repeated, looking her up and down again. "You are exquisite my dear. If whatever you've brought is half as lovely as you are, consider it sold."

"Thanks," Sarah mumbled, giving him a weak smile.

"What did my associate tell you about the piece?" Jareth asked.

"Not much," answered Alexander, "Only that it was ancient and very much worth my time which I'm sure you understand is quite precious to me."

"Of course," said Jareth.

"Come with me to my gallery and we can talk some more. Unless I can convince you to take a dip..."

"Oh, we would love to see your gallery," Jareth told the man.

"Pity," said Alexander, pouting. " _I_ would love to see lovely Sarah in a gold bikini."

Alexander called for a robe and the servant brought one, belting it around his portly frame with a gold cord. He slipped into a pair of gold thong sandals and shuffled back into the house. Sarah and Jareth followed him up two sets of stairs and down several long hallways before he stopped in front of a tall golden door.

"As I'm sure you've guessed, I am extremely fond of gold," he told them. "My number one client is as well and got me started in my own collection. It's a little bit of an obsession of mine, as you will see."

He opened the golden door and Sarah's jaw dropped as Alexander led them into a cavernous space filled with shelves and cases spilling over with golden artifacts, coins and jewelry.

"A little bit of an obsession?" Sarah said aloud without thinking.

Alexander chuckled. "Oh yes, my dear. Perhaps I understated that a bit. I am absolutely captivated by gold. There's nothing like it."

Jareth nodded to Sarah and she pulled out her gold fragment and handed it to him.

"I think you will definitely be interested in this, then," he said, holding the piece up for Alexander to see.

Alexander stepped forward, squinting at the sliver of gold, then smiled.

"Oh yes," he gasped. "This would be a most welcome addition. In fact..." He led them past a long row of class cases full of ancient ornaments and small broken pieces of gold until he reached a large vault at the back of the room.

"I keep my rarest treasures in here," Alexander told them. "Very few people have ever seen what is in here."

Sarah gave Jareth a hopeful look as the Alexander continued, punching in a numerical code into the keypad on the vault as he spoke. "What you've brought is quite extraordinary. It is a fragment of a mystical piece of legend. A piece believed to have been created by the gods, but broken and hidden away for centuries."

Alexander leaned down and put his face against the retinal scanner and waited as the light pulsed over his eye.

The lock on the vault beeped and opened and Alexander swung open the heavy metal door and stepped inside. He swept his hand out toward a small lighted box and as Sarah and Jareth moved closer, they could see a gold fragment much like the one that Sarah had found in the Jordanian desert. The piece was larger and more polished, but it bore the same markings. Jareth held up Sarah's fragment to Alexander's and the two pieces fit together on one end seamlessly. Combined, they formed a curved spear-like shape.

"Where did you find it?" Alexander asked Jareth.

"It was found in the desert near Petra," he answered. "My sister here is something of an amateur archeologist and she stumbled across it."

Sarah whirled around to defend herself, but Jareth gave her a sharp warning glare.

"Y-Yes, that's right," she stammered, still fuming. "I had no idea what it was, but it looked valuable. Naturally, I couldn't sell it outright. My dear _brother_ here has all sorts of questionable associates and one of them suggested you as a potential buyer. It looks as though they were right."

Sarah stepped up boldly and took Alexander by the arm, cringing as his bodily aroma hit her nostrils, a mixture of stale sweat and tanning oil. "I was wondering if you could tell me a bit more about it," she said sweetly.

Alexander smiled and stroked Sarah's bare arm. "Of course, my dear," he told her with a lewd smile. "The whole piece, as I said earlier, is believed to have been made by the gods. It is said that it was created as a vessel of containment, a place of sanctuary for an immortal's essence to remain in times of strife. You see, in those days, war raged amongst the many realms of immortals. This piece, the _Anima vasa,_ was meant as a gift to one of the great goddesses, but it was stolen. It was later found again, but was purposely broken and scattered over the Earth to hide it."

"Why would someone do that if it was so valuable?" Sarah asked.

"I can only guess that was done to keep it from falling into the wrong hands," answered Alexander. "Of course, mystical pieces such as this always find their way back..."

"How did you come to have _your_ piece, if you don't mind me asking?" Jareth questioned.

The fat man laughed. "Oh, it's a funny story, really," he told them. "I happened to be at the right place at the right time. I was sailing off the coast of Somalia when my vessel received a distress signal. We answered and found a wreck of a ship carrying about a hundred and fifty or so refugees. The ship was going down fast and the passengers were desperate to be rescued. Unfortunately, my little ship could only safely carry about thirty. The floundering passengers began offering up everything they had of value to me in exchange for rescue: money, drugs, jewelry, even children. This piece was given to me by one of that pathetic lot."

"And you rescued them?" asked Sarah.

"Heavens no," said Alexander with a grunt. "As I said, my ship can only carry about thirty people. We were not equipped to handle a large group of savage African refugees."

"So you let them all drown?" Sarah asked through clenched teeth.

Alexander placed a chubby, sweaty palm against her cheek. "Now now, my dear," he tutted. "It's better that way. They would never have gotten very far anyway."

Sarah wanted to scream. She wanted to wrap her hands around Barnabas Alexander's thick neck and squeeze until his eyes popped out of their sockets. How could that despicable man have stolen from desperate people and then let them all die?

Jareth saw the murderous rage blaze up in Sarah's eyes and he caught her by the elbow. He gazed deep into her eyes with a look that seemed to beg her to hold her emotions in check.

 _"I know he's vile,"_ Jareth's eyes seemed to say, " _But we must play along in this game..."_

Sarah fought back her urge to kill and walked a few feet away, angry tears stinging the corners of her eyes.

"Your sister is the sensitive sort, isn't she?" Alexander asked Jareth.

"Oh yes," Jareth answered. "When we were kids she was always bringing home stray and injured creatures."

"I'd be happy to let her take _me_ home," chuckled Alexander.

"Let's get down to business, Mr. Alexander," said Jareth. "I doubt very much that you are interested in parting with your piece of the _Anima vasa."_

"Quite right."

"How much would you give for ours?"

Alexander smiled and scribbled some figures on a pad and handed it to Jareth.

"I'll double that if you'll include an evening with your sister," he said, eyeing Sarah's legs and backside.

Jareth glanced at the paper. "This will do just fine, Mr. Alexander," he told him.

"Wonderful," said Alexander. "Let's have some lunch while everything is put in order."

Sarah and Jareth followed him out of the vault and down the long halls and staircases to a large sun-drenched dining area on the first floor. They were seated and servants brought out a light lunch of crab salad with olives wrapped in fig leaves. Alexander chattered as they ate, boasting about his collection of golden artifacts and finding every way that he could to touch Sarah. He brushed her arm as she passed a plate of bread. He rubbed his knee against hers as he leaned forward to show Jareth the trio of gold Swiss watches he wore on his left arm. Sarah finally stood and excused herself when he reached under the table and gripped her thigh.

"I'm very glad your sister decided to sell the piece to me rather than giving it to a museum," Alexander said, his mouth full of crab salad. "The Irish National Museum of Archaeology contacted me about mine last year."

"Oh?" Jareth asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes, they may or may not have a piece there. The man I spoke to on the phone would never say for sure. I offered to buy whatever scrap of it they had, but they expected me to donate mine! Can you believe that?"

"Preposterous!" cried Jareth as he stood and walked outside to the patio to smoke. He stalked lightly around the large blue pool, drawing the blessed nicotine into his lungs and blowing smoke from his nostrils. He carefully pondered the bit of unexpected information that Alexander had given up. Ireland would be a more difficult place for them to hide, but if there was any chance at all that a piece of the _Anima vasa_ was there, he knew they had to go.

After several minutes, Alexander wobbled out onto the patio to join him.

"Do you know where your delightful sister has gone off to?" he asked. "I can't seem to find her."

Jareth wordlessly tossed his cigarette onto the gold patio tiles and stamped it out with the heel of his boot. Slowly, he turned toward Alexander and smiled before grabbing him by his meaty neck and hauling him off his feet. Alexander's eyes bulged and his mouth opened and closed as he tried to yell for his guards to help.

"It's no use," hissed Jareth. "You're no match for me, you disgusting excuse for a human being." He closed his grip around Alexander's neck, feeling the ridges of his windpipe through layers of fat. "I could snap your neck before anyone could get to you."

Alexander grew still, waiting to see what his captor would do. Jareth slowly lowered the man to his feet, but didn't release his grip on his neck.

"You're going to quietly take me to the vault," he instructed. "If you so much as look crossways I will kill you where you stand. And don't think I need you alive. Your retina scanner will work with your eyes in your head or out. Do you understand?"

Alexander clumsily nodded as best he could with the Goblin King's hand wrapped around his neck.

"Good," Jareth told him. He loosened his grip on the man's neck and pushed him forward. Alexander coughed and sputtered but hurried away toward the vault with Jareth following quickly behind him.

Several minutes later Sarah opened the bathroom door and stepped out into the hall. She was still seething, but had calmed down enough to not stab Alexander with her salad fork. Jareth and Alexander were waiting for her in the hall. Sarah noticed a pained expression on the man's fat face.

"Sister dear, " cooed Jareth. "Mr. Alexander and I have concluded our business." He lifted up the two pieces of the _Anima vasa_ for her to see. "He has offered to escort us off the island. Isn't that nice?"

"I...uh... yes," stuttered Sarah, confused.

"Why are we taking him with us?" she asked a short while later as the trio boarded the little boat. She had had enough of the nauseating man and was eager to see the back of him.

Jareth grunted. "Because, he'd likely have us intercepted and shot otherwise. He looked down at the paunchy Alexander in his ridiculously tiny bikini briefs. "Don't worry," he told him. "We'll release you once we're out of firing range."

They sailed away from the dock, smiling and waving and it was only then that Sarah noticed the blade Jareth was holding against the fat man's back, just beneath his spleen. The knife had been swiped from the dining table while their host had been preoccupied with pawing at Sarah.

The boat picked up speed once it hit the open water and after a few minutes they were a safe distance from the island.

"What do you want to do with him?" Jareth asked Sarah.

She said nothing, but slipped one of the boat's orange life vests over Alexander's head, helped him to his feet and then calmly shoved him overboard.

Jareth laughed out loud as the boat sped away, leaving him bobbing helplessly in the waves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted the character of Barnabas Alexander to be as repugnant as possible, so I based his personality on Jabba the Hutt, Donald Trump, and the character of Kivas Fajo from the "Star Trek: The Next Generation" episode "The Most Toys".


	8. Through the Looking Glass

"Come on!" Hoggle cried as another tremor rocked the land. The walls of the tiny hovel shuddered and shook, rattling the cupboards and loosening the floorboards.

"Wait," said Squashblossom. "I've got to get my quilt. I can't leave it, my grandmother made it."

"Hurry up!" Hoggle cried again. "This place is gonna come down around our heads while yer wastin' time!"

Hoggle had what was most important to him: his jewels, his gardening tools, and an extra pair of shoes. Of course his most precious possession was still wandering through the house, unable to leave anything behind. Hoggle tapped his foot impatiently. At any second another quake could rip open the ground beneath them and they'd never be heard from again.

"And all for an ugly quilt," he grumbled.

Finally Squashblossom appeared in the doorway, her stubby arms loaded with boxes and bags.

"Throw 'em in the cart and let's get the hell out of here!" her husband commanded.

She did as she was told, dumping her treasures into the small wooden cart and then taking a seat next to Hoggle. He cracked his whip and the little fairy foxes jumped forward, pulling the cart toward the high ground of the castle beyond the goblin city.

Neither of them spoke for a long time, but Hoggle couldn't ignore the pitiful sniffling coming from the other end of the wagon bench. He looked at his wife and tried to smile.

"Now now, " he told her. "There ain't no use for tears. We'll be back when everything is all right again. You'll see."

"But what if-" Squashblossom tried to begin but Hoggle interrupted.

"Sarah and His Majesty are gonna figure things out and make 'em all right."

"I thought you didn't trust the Goblin King," argued Squashblossom.

"Well, now I ain't got no choice. If he doesn't do something, no one will. And anyway, I trust Sarah. I didn't at first, not after... well anyway, that ain't who she is now. She's my friend and she forgave me so's I can do the same for her. She'll make sure things gets fixed right. I know it."

He grabbed Squashblossom's hand as the castle came into view.

"It's gonna be ok."

Squashblossom ventured a tiny smile. If Hoggle believed things would be all right, she could too.

* * *

"Ah, friend Hoggle," said Sir Didymus. "I am glad thou hast made it to the safety of the castle. I had feared that the quakes had prevented thee from fleeing."

The little knight picked up a parcel from the wagon and led the way into the castle gate. Ludo grabbed the rest of Squashblossom's belongings in his arms and followed.

"We stayed as long as we could," Squashblossom explained. "I hated to leave our home, but there was no choice. The tremors were getting worse and the black slime is creeping up the hill at an alarming pace!"

"We shall be safe here for a while," Sir Didymus told them as he led them into the throne room. "Though I hope you have brought along provisions. The goblins are satisfied to subsist on a diet of dirt and ale, but I fear we shall need more to survive."

"Never fear," said Squashblossom. "I brought plenty of brown bread and the last of our vegetables from the garden." She turned to Ludo. "Show me where the kitchen is and I'll get to making us a suitable dinner."

Ludo smiled at the thought of a homecooked meal.

"Yum food," he purred. "Follow me."

Ludo lumbered down the stairs to the kitchen and Squashblossom followed close behind the gentle beast. Hoggle turned to Sir Didymus when they had gone.

"How bad is it?" he asked warily.

The little knight shook his head. "Tis very serious," he answered. "The slime is creeping over the stone mountains. My brother's family are trapped in the mountains now with little hope of rescue. I have not had the heart to tell him."

"Any word from Sarah?" asked Hoggle.

"None, but I fear she and His Majesty are in danger. The news from the Fae Council is distressing. The Goddess is on a rampage. `It is very likely that Sarah and His Majesty are in hiding."

Hoggle slumped down into a dusty wooden chair. "There's no hope then?"

"There is always hope, friend Hoggle," the knight said with a wistful smile. "Especially when the lady Sarah is involved. I have hope that we will hear from her soon."

"Well that _would_ be lovely, now wouldn't it?" A voice crackled across the room. Hoggle and Sir Didymus looked up to see the Morrigan draped casually across Jareth's throne.

The goddess laughed as the dwarf cowered behind the brave little knight.

"Such pathetic creatures Jareth has taking care of things," she spat. "No wonder this place is such a mess."

She rose from the throne and walked down to where the knight stood with the shivering dwarf behind him.

"Tell me, Sir Knight, where is your king?"

Sir Didymus bowed low and the exposed Hoggle let out a yelp.

"Forgive me, Great Goddess," said Didymus. "But I know not where His Majesty the Goblin King is at present."

The Morrigan glared hard at him. "You are his most trusted knight, the one to whom he left his charge of his kingdom and you do not know where he is?" she asked suspiciously.

"No, my Lady, I do not. It is His Majesty's prerogative to-"

The Morrigan cut him off with a wild wail.

"How dare you lie to me!" she bellowed. "You know where Jareth is and you will tell me this instant!"

"I know not," Sir Didymus answered simply. "And if perchance I did, I wouldst not tell thee." He crossed his arms over his chest in defiance and looked away from the goddess. Hoggle stared up at him in amazement. He was either the bravest or stupidest creature he'd ever seen.

The Morrigan clenched her fists in rage. How could these pathetic beings be so loyal to their ridiculous king? Jareth was hardly worthy of such devotion.

"Your king is not coming back to rescue you and the rest of your pitiful lot," she snarled.

"Yes, he is!" cried Hoggle. The goddess shot a sharp look at him and he immediately regretted his outburst and clamped his hand over his mouth.

"He is, eh?" asked the Morrigan as she circled the knight and the dwarf. "Well then, I should be waiting for him," she continued.

At that moment Squashblossom came up the stairs and stopped just outside the doorway of the throne room. She did not know who was speaking, but recognized the menace in the goddess's voice. She flattened herself against the wall and listened carefully.

"When His Majesty returns he will be greeted by my forces," the goddess hissed. "And to make sure he is not warned..."

She waved her hand over the knight and the dwarf and their legs turned to stone.

"No!" Hoggle cried, trying in vain to move his frozen legs. "You can't do that!"

"Oh, but I can," smirked the Morrigan. "When Jareth returns with the _Anima vasa_ I will be waiting. You and the rest of this disgusting place will be swallowed up in that putrid mass like the garbage you are. I shall at last be rid of the Goblin King, his subjects, and that wretched bitch Sarah."

The goddess let out an evil cackle before transforming into a large black crow. She flew out of the castle, circling the high tower before winging toward the horizon.

Squashblossom ran into the throne room where Sir Didymus and Hoggle stood frozen in place. "Oh, my dear!" she cried. "What are we going to do?"

"Dear Lady Squashblossom, you must go and warn His Majesty," said Didymus.

"Me? I don't know where he is!"

"You must go Aboveground. If the goddess gets to His Majesty and Sarah, all will be lost!"

Squashblossom went to a window and looked out. Already the Morrigan's Fae forces were gathering around the castle stronghold.

"How can I get to the Aboveground?" she asked. "That horrible woman already has us surrounded!"

"Here," said Hoggle, squirming helplessly. "Take my keys and use the oubliette. It'll take ya out to the Labyrinth."

"What about the slime?" Squashblossom asked.

"The Lady is correct," chimed in the knight. "The Labyrinth is far too dangerous."

"Then how can I get out?"

"There is another way," Sir Didymus offered.

"No," Hoggle countered. "She can't do that. It's even more dangerous than the oubliette!"

"I can do it!" Squashblossome cried. "Just tell me what it is!"

Sir Didymus looked at Hoggle and Hoggle shook his head knowing there wasn't much choice.

"There is a mirror in the tower," Sir Didymus began. "It will take you directly to the Aboveground, but you must remain unseen. If you are caught, we are doomed."

"I'll be careful," she promised. " Ludo and Ambrosius should stay here to guard the castle."

"Tis wise planning, my lady," said Sir Didymus. "Carry as little as possible with you, but be swift. Time grows short."

"Yes, yes. I will," said Squashblossom. She gave Hoggle a quick kiss before disappearing back down the stairs in search of Ludo.

"Do you think she'll find 'em in time?" Hoggle asked the knight.

"I certainly hope so," answered Sir Didymus.

"Me too," said the dwarf. "Me too."

* * *

Sarah settled into her seat and fastened her seat belt as the stewardess went over all the flight instructions. Beside her, Jareth fidgeted restlessly.

"It's a four hour flight, Jareth," Sarah began. "Surely you can go without a smoke for four hours."

"Four hours and fifteen minutes," corrected the Goblin King. "And no, when I'm under this amount of stress I cannot go without a smoke for more than four hours."

Sarah sighed and shook her head and got the attention of one of the stewardesses. She ordered Jareth a drink, which he gladly accepted.

It's not quite the same," he said sipping his drink, "but I do appreciate it."

"No problem," Sarah told him. She watched out the window as the plane lifted into the sky and the ground below drifted away.

"Tell me again how you managed to get us into the archives of the Irish National Museum of Archaeology," Jareth requested.

"You're not the only one with connections, Your Majesty," Sarah told him. "I called in a favor. A colleague of mine happens to have a friend who works at the museum."

Keith Morgenstern had been in Sarah's graduating class at university. They had worked together on numerous projects and she'd even flirted with him before realizing he was gay. Keith had worked in Ireland for a while after graduation and Sarah remembered that he had dated a guy who was on staff at the Irish National Museum of Archaeology. She'd put in a call to him that morning from the airport in Athens.

"Hullo?" A groggy voice had answered.

"Keith? Hi, it's Sarah. Sarah Williams."

"Sarah? What the? Aren't you missing?" asked her friend.

"No," Sarah quickly answered. "Just a bit of a misunderstanding... Look Keith, I need a favor. I'm kind of desperate."

"Sarah are you in trouble?" Keith asked.

"No—well, maybe a little," Sarah fibbed. "I need to talk to someone at the Irish National Museum. I've stumbled across something on a dig and I think someone should have a look at it. Don't you have a contact there?"

"You mean Ian? Sarah, I haven't spoken to him in years..."

Please Keith," begged Sarah. "I really have to show this to someone. It's extremely important."

"You are in trouble, aren't you?" her friend asked.

"I can't really go into it," Sarah told him. "Just please tell me you can set this up."

Keith had been quiet for what seemed like ages before answering. "All right," he sighed. "I'll see what I can do."

Sarah had hung up, promising to call back in an hour to see what Keith had found out. She had called again just before boarding and was pleased to discover that not only had Keith gotten in touch with his former lover, but he had arranged a meeting for them for the following afternoon at the museum archives.

"What if he has no clue what we're talking about?" Sarah asked Jareth.

Jareth took a sip of his drink. "Alexander said that someone from the museum contacted him about his piece. Someone there knows something. They may even have a piece there in the archives. We have to go find out."

Sarah took her little gold fragment out of its wrapping and ran a finger over its worn surface.

"What is this thing really, Jareth?" she asked. "I know what you've told me and others, but I know there's more to it than that. How is this little thing supposed to save the Underground? Why does the Morrigan want it so badly? Why and how does it give me strange dreams?"

Jareth leaned back against the headrest and sighed. "Sarah, I can't tell you everything because you wouldn't understand or believe me. There's more at stake than my kingdom, I can tell you that. But the less you know, the safer you are."

"That's bullshit, Jareth," Sarah argued. "You brought me into this mess and I deserve to know what's really going on."

"I promise," Jareth said, placing his hand over hers. "Once we find all the pieces of the _Anima vasa_ I'll tell you everything."

Sarah swallowed hard, trying to dislodge the lump that had risen in her throat. "And what if we don't find them?" she managed to squeak.

Jareth moved his hand away from hers. "Then it won't matter," he replied.

* * *

Squashblossom peered into the tall mirror that was propped against a wall in the dark, dusty tower. She couldn't see anything except her own reflection in the glass. She hesitantly placed her hand on the mirror's smooth surface, but felt nothing unusual.

"How's it supposed to work?" she wondered.

She looked closer, staring beyond her reflection into the mirror's depths and was startled to see the shadowy shapes of furniture and boxes. She looked behind her, but the room was empty. The little dwarf looked again into the mirror. She could make out a room on the other side of it, dark and piled high with crates and broken and dust-covered chairs. Taking a deep breath, Squashblossom stepped forward. The mirror warped and rippled around her as she stepped through into the darkness.

She stumbled into the other side, kicking up a cloud of dust from the heaps of boxes. Coughing and sputtering, she carefully picked her way through the dark room. Squashblossom gazed back at mirror she'd stepped though. Instead of a tall mirror like the one in the tower, this one was small and square. It sat against the wall next to a wooden vanity and Squashblossom could see from the details on each that they had once belonged together. The mirror had obviously once sat atop the vanity.

As her large eyes began to adjust to the dark, Squashblossom could see the frame of a door on the far wall and she started moving toward it, careful to not make any noise. She had no clue where she was, but she knew from Sir Didymus' warning that she had to be quiet to avoid being caught. She carefully wound around the stacks of boxes and furniture until she reached the door. Slowly, she turned the knob and the door creaked open. Squashblossom cautiously gazed around the open door into a long dark stairway.

One by one, she descended the wooden stairs. They groaned slightly under every step, forcing her to pause and wait, listening to make sure no one had heard. Finally, the last steps opened into a bright hallway with a hardwood floor and walls lined with photographs. Squashblossom stopped to look at the pictures. There were several large photos of a group of humans: two adults and two children. The little dwarf looked closer. The girl child looked familiar. Almost like... Sarah! The next group of photos confirmed her suspicions. A young woman who was definitely Sarah posed in an emerald green ballgown. In another she stood with the two adults wearing a long black robe and a funny flat black hat with a tassel hanging from it.

"This must be Sarah's house!" Squashblossom thought as she stared at the pictures. She reached up to touch a photo of Sarah with a large dog, but accidently bumped it, knocking it off the wall. The picture crashed to the floor shattering the glass. The little dwarf froze in terror.

"What was that?" said a male voice from downstairs.

"Toby? Are you up there?" asked a female voice.

"No mom, I'm in the den," answered a younger male voice.

"I'll go up and check it out," said the first voice.

Squashblossom looked around for an escape route. The hall was lined with doors, but there was no way to know where they led. She knew she couldn't stay in the hallway, so she picked the door closest to her and opened it and ducked inside. She scrambled back as far into the linen closet as she could as footsteps sounded on the stairs and then down the hall. The steps stopped just outside the door where the picture of Sarah lay broken on the floor.

"Hmm...that's strange," said the male voice that Squashblossom guessed belonged to Sarah's father. She could hear as he bent over and picked up the shattered frame.

"What is it, Robert?" a woman called from the foot of the stairs.

"One of the pictures fell," the man called back.

Squashblossom heard lighter footsteps ascending the stairs and soon the woman had joined the man in the hall.

"The hook must have failed," Robert Williams told the woman as he showed her the broken frame.

"Oh dear," said the woman. "I guess I'll have to get a new—Robert, have you been up in the attic?"

"No, I haven't why?"

"The attic door is standing open..."

There was an uneasy silence as Sarah's parents stared at the open door. In the linen closet, Squashblossom held her breath.

_**RIIIIINNNGG!** _

The ringing phone made everyone jump including Squashblossom. The man and woman both ran to the next room to grab the phone. When they had gone the little dwarf slowly opened the closet door and peeked out. The hall was empty, but she could voices in the next room. The woman was talking excitedly on the phone.

"Keith? Yes, of course I remember...You what? You've heard from Sarah?" The woman turned to her husband. "It's Keith Morgenstern. He said Sarah called him a little while ago!" She turned her attention back to the phone. "Go on Keith...she's headed where? Dublin, Ireland? Who is she with?"

Squashblossom scurried down the hall to the stairs. Sarah and Jareth were headed to Dublin! She quickly made her way down to the first floor. If she could get out of the house she could get to them and warn them about the Morrigan's plan! Squashblossom could see the front door from the foot of the stairs. Just a few more steps...

"What. The. Fuck."

Squashblossom looked up to see a teenage human boy staring down at her. The boy was average height, but lean with a headful of curly blonde hair. He gazed at her in amazement.

"Please," she managed to say, "I mean no harm. I'm trying to save Sarah and the Gob-"

The boy bent down to Squashblossom. "The Goblin King?" he whispered.

Squashblossom nodded.

"I had wondered if maybe he had something to do with Sarah's disappearance," the boy said to no one in particular. "What does he want with her?" His tone wasn't accusatory, but rather curious.

"The Underground is in trouble," the dwarf woman told him. "Sarah is helping His Majesty try to save it, but they are both in danger. I have to get to Dublin, Ireland to warn them."

"Okay," said the boy. "Are you a goblin?"

"I'm a dwarf!" Squashblossom cried, putting her hands on her hips.

"Sorry," the boy told her. "No offense. I'm Toby, by the way." He smiled.

"I'm Squashblossom," said the dwarf. "I hate to just run off but..."

She looked up the stairs where Sarah's parents were talking to Keith Morgenstern.

"Oh, right," said Toby. He stood and quietly walked to the front door and opened it and Squashblossom hurried through it.

"Good luck, Squashblossom," Toby called to her. "Tell Sarah I lov- er... I mean... tell her I said hi."

"I will," Squashblossom said with a smile. She waved to Toby and then turned away and ran off into the night.


	9. Black Velvet Band

The Morrigan gazed over her scrying bowl and smiled. In the swirling water she could see the Goblin Kingdom, torn open by quakes and slowly being swallowed by the evil black sludge that had risen from its depths. The castle stood like a forgotten lighthouse in the midst of the shuddering sea of dark magic and decay. The goddess watched it carefully, waiting for a sign that the Goblin King had returned.

"Yes," she thought to herself. "This way is much better. Why should I chase after that infuriating pair? Let them find the _Anima vasa._ When they do I'll be waiting and I'll destroy it and them."

* * *

"I'm starving," Sarah said, flopping down on the large king-sized bed in the hotel room. "Let's go downstairs to the pub and get some dinner."

They had been in Dublin less than an hour, arriving at the airport just as the sun was setting. Hopping into a cab, they had found a small hotel that accepted cash payment and got a room for the night. The hotel was old but cozy, with sparsely furnished rooms and communal bathrooms on each floor. The room Sarah and Jareth were led to had a desk, a chair, a coat rack, a small television and one king-sized bed.

"Come on," Sarah had said, setting Jareth's green bag on the floor at the foot of the bed. "We're not going to turn this into some ridiculous sitcom scenario. It's a big bed and we're both going to sleep in it."

"I wasn't arguing with it," Jareth had replied with a smile.

"The bed is at least pretty comfortable," Sarah thought as she stretched out across it. Her stomach rumbled and she sat up and watched as Jareth removed the light maroon jacket he'd been wearing and hung it carefully on the coatrack.

He smiled at her intestinal grumblings and took her by the hand and pulled her up from the bed.

"To the pub then?" he asked.

"Y-yeah. Sure," mumbled Sarah.

* * *

"I had forgotten how much I like beer," Jareth said later as he gulped down the contents of his mug and motioned to the bartender for another.

"I seem to remember quite a stench of stale ale in your throne room, Jareth," Sarah said with a laugh.

A waitress brought over another pint and set in front of Jareth and he raised his mug to Sarah. "There's quite a difference between goblin ale and a pint of Guiness, Sarah," he told her before taking another long drink .

"Oh yes?" Sarah asked, her eyes widening as she watched him kill off another pint.

"Yes," answered Jareth. "Goblin ale tastes like troll piss and Guiness tastes like Ambrosia."

He set his mug down with a laugh and called for another.

"Ambrosia or not, perhaps you should slow down," Sarah told him.

Jareth waved her off. He had missed the taste of Aboveground beer and the way a frothy pint tickled under his nose. He'd missed the way it was cool on his tongue but warm in his belly. He'd missed the pleasant numbness of a good beer buzz. He looked at Sarah and noticed that she was staring at him with a look of concern.

"I use to drink like this all the time when I was human," he told her as he reached for his third pint. Or was it his fourth? He wasn't sure.

"Wait, what?!" asked Sarah, setting down her own glass. "You were human?"

"Well, yesss," answered the Goblin King. "Didn't you know that?"

"No," Sarah replied flabbergasted. She sat, quietly stunned for several moments before speaking again.

"If you were human, how did you end up as the Goblin King?"

Jareth gave a wistful laugh. "I was tricked into it," he told her.

"Tricked?" Sarah asked. "Someone tricked _you_? This is a story I have to hear."

Jareth shook his head. "Oh no, my dear," he began. "It's really quite long and boring and don't think you would find it interesting at all..."

Sarah waved for the bartender and then turned to Jareth. "I'm buying you another drink," she told him, "and you are going to tell me everything."

* * *

Jareth didn't tell her everything. Despite another healthy round of Guiness, he maintained his faculties enough to leave out certain bits of the story. He told Sarah about earning the ire of a sorceress and becoming her personal plaything. He described the challenge of the seven riddles and songs and how he had met Hoggle and Sir Didymus and Ludo. He didn't tell her the identity of the sorceress and thankfully she didn't ask. He wasn't sure how long he'd been talking and drinking, but when he stopped and looked around the pub was dark and empty.

Sarah was leaned in listening intently. An empty wine bottle sat on the table between them. Apparently, some time in the evening they had switched from Guiness to Cabernet. Catching his gaze, Sarah sat back in her chair.

"I don't understand," she began. "If you answered all the riddles and sang all the songs, how did you get bound to the Goblin Kingdom?"

"There was a clause in the curse that the sorceress neglected to tell me about," Jareth explained. He picked up the wine bottle and tipped it up to his lips, but only a small droplet of wine reached his tongue. He set the bottle back on the table and continued.

"According to the Book of Secrets, the sorceress could be unbound or destroyed. As the solver of the riddles I had the power to destroy the sorceress and free myself or release her and bind myself in her place."

"But Jareth," said Sarah. "If that's the case then... you chose to be bound. Why?"

Jareth didn't answer but looked away. Even after all the years that had passed the wound still burned in his breast. He could still see himself standing on that sodden plain with his heart in his hands. He had sacrificed himself for her and she'd left him chained there. He was aware of her attempt to save him later, but that did little to dull the ache of her betrayal.

"Jareth," Sarah was saying. "Why? Why would you willingly-" She stopped, obviously struck by a thought. "Unless," she said slowly, "You loved her."

She looked up at him, wide-eyed.

"You fell in love with her, didn't you?" she asked.

Jareth didn't answer, but picked up the empty wine bottle and tipped it back again trying desperately to get more wine to come out of it. Sarah watched him in amusement and wonder.

"I can't believe it," she said. "You're the Goblin King simply because you fell in love." She gave a little laugh. "I simply can't believe it."

Jareth slammed down the wine bottle and stared hard into Sarah's face. "Believe it," he spat, his eyes flashing fire. He jumped up from the table and staggered toward the window.

Sarah rose from her seat and followed him. "Come on," she said quietly. She took his arm and led him to the door. "Let's get some air."

They made their way outside to a small table. The moon was hanging low over their heads, casting a silver halo of light around them.

"I'm sorry, Jareth," Sarah said. "I didn't mean to upset you. It's just hard for me to imagine you being in love."

"My human self was capable of such things," Jareth told her.

"But not now?' Sarah asked.

"I'm afraid not," he lied.

They were silent for a long while before Sarah spoke again.

"What was she like?"

Jareth looked up at the stars. In his drunken haze they swooped and swirled in the sky like a Van Gogh painting come to life. He shut his eyes to the celestial reeling.

"She was beautiful," he answered. "She was a deceitful bitch, but she was beautiful."

Sarah laughed and he opened one eye and smiled.

"That's always the case, isn't it?" he asked and Sarah stopped laughing. "Except with you," he continued. "You're beautiful Sarah, but you don't seem to be a bitch. Anymore," he added with an evil grin.

"All right now, Your Majesty. I think it's time for bed," Sarah said rising from her seat.

"That sounds like a wonderful idea," said Jareth. He moved to stand up, but wobbled and pitched forward and nearly fell onto his face in the dirt, but Sarah caught and steadied him. He smiled and purred gently as Sarah helped him back into the hotel and upstairs to their room.

"Are you going to take advantage of me, Sarah?" he asked, slightly slurring her name.

"No Jareth, I'm not," she answered.

The Goblin King stopped abruptly and looked down at her. "Why not?" he asked indignantly.

"Because you're drunk," Sarah told him. "This is the twenty-first century and sexual assault is not cool, Your Majesty."

Jareth smiled and leaned forward, forcing her back against the wall. "Oh Sarah," he whispered. "That is so noble of you, but I assure you that anything _sexual_ that happened would be completely consensual on my part."

Sarah flattened herself against the wall as he pressed into her. She could feel the heat from his body and it, combined with several glasses of wine, was beginning to make her judgment cloudy.

"Jareth, you're so wasted you have no idea what you're saying," she told him.

"Perhaps not," he leaned even closer and whispered into her ear. "But I'd still want it if I were sober."

Sarah sighed and pushed him off her. "I doubt that, Jareth. Besides, you really need to get some sleep. You're probably going to feel pretty rotten in the morning."

She helped him through the doorway of their shared room and toward the bed where he plopped down and rolled over. Sarah slipped out her blue jeans and into a loose pair of shorts before crawling into bed beside him.

"Goodnight, Jareth," she said to him as she lay back onto her pillow.

"Mmmff," was all she received in reply.

* * *

Sarah was right. He did feel rotten the next morning. He had grown feverish some time during the night and had shed all of his clothes. He awoke naked and alone in the bed with his stomach churning and his head pounding and the shaft of bright light coming through the open curtains driving a hot dagger right into his cornea.

Sarah was wrong too. He still wanted her. Jareth couldn't remember much about the night before except that he'd drunk human beer for the first time in eons and then everything had gotten a little fuzzy around the edges. He remembered Sarah, sitting outside at a table under the night sky with the light of the moon framing her head just so, making her look like a Renaissance Madonna. He supposed it was terribly sacrilegious to be turned on by a vision of the Blessed Virgin, but Jareth really didn't care. Besides, he knew Sarah was no sinless virgin.

The ache in his head was accompanied by a painful tightness between his legs. Damned alluring girl! He flopped back onto his pillow and let his hands wander down his body to the painful aching in his groin. He stroked the throbbing area as his mind drifted back to the dark castle over the barren plain. Sarah as a dark and powerful sorceress had hovered over him, her sex nearly touching his. He had grabbed her, slamming her down on himself as a cry left his lips. She had moved on top of him slowly, deliberately, drawing out his pleasure until he'd erupted inside her and a burst of blue stars danced around his head leaving him spent and giddy.

Jareth rubbed himself faster, feeling the warmth spreading from his spine and down into his nether regions as he remembered making love to the sorceress. He wondered if the Sarah she was now would make love to him in the same way. Would she be timid and shy? Or was the intimate Sarah as bold and seductive as her magical counterpart? He imagined her hands on him, taking what she wanted, leaving him breathless. Her name flew from his lips as his body shuddered and he came. He lay still in the quiet room, trying to calm his uneven breathing and steady his spinning head, knowing that Sarah could walk through the door at any moment. If would hardly do for her to come in and find him lying prone in a post-orgasmic haze, his hand sticky with-

"Jareth are you up? I—Oh gosh! I'm sorry, I didn't know you weren't dressed!" Sarah cried, throwing a hand over her eyes.

Jareth pulled the sheets up over his lower half, trying to fight the wave of nausea that had risen in his stomach while at the same time trying to reassure the thoroughly embarrassed Sarah.

"I wanted to check on you," she went on. Her voice seemed unusually shrill and Jareth thought his head might split in two.

"It's all right, Sarah," he told her, wincing. "I'm fine besides this godawful hangover."

Sarah uncovered her eyes and stole a glance at the Goblin King. His legs were covered by the bed sheet, but she could still see the outline of them and had gotten quite a good look at what was between them. She felt the heat rising in her cheeks and looked away.

"I know you feel awful," she sputtered, "but there's coffee downstairs and a nice breakfast of sausage and eggs. You need a good coating of grease on your stomach to get over that hangover."

Jareth's stomach lurched at the mention of grease, but he managed a weak smile.

"Thank you," he told Sarah. "I'll get dressed and then I'll join you downstairs."

"Great," Sarah said hurriedly as she turned and left the room with her cheeks flaming.

Jareth stood unsteadily and tried to dress. His head throbbed as he bent over to pull up his trousers. He tried to shake off the cobwebs of the night before as he slipped a plain grey shirt over his head and smoothed it down over his body. After sliding his feet into a pair of loafers he slowly made his way out to the hall and down the stairs to where Sarah sat waiting with a hearty breakfast. He knew she was probably right about him needing to eat something a bit heavy on the grease, but all he wanted was a cup of coffee with a shot of bourbon.

"Or a bullet to the head," he groaned.

He joined Sarah at the table, squinting in the piercing morning light as he flopped down into a chair and fished a cigarette from his shirt pocket.

"Your eggs are getting cold," Sarah said without looking at him. He could tell she was still flustered at having seen him naked and despite feeling like shit he was rather pleased to know he'd rattled her a bit.

Jareth stabbed at the white blobs with his fork and golden yolk poured out of them and onto his plate soaking his rye toast. He picked up the toast and stuffed it in his mouth and was grateful that it was appealing even in his foul state.

"I don't remember the last time I had a hangover," Jareth told Sarah as he dragged another piece of toast through the bright yellow egg yolk before shoving it in his mouth. Sarah was surprised to see that he'd even set his cigarette, still unlit, aside and was tucking hungrily into his breakfast.

"Maybe when you were human?" Sarah asked.

Jareth's eyes grew wide and he nearly choked on his toast at her words. "Wh—what?" he asked.

How could she know about that? Who had told her? Perhaps the dwarf? No... A foggy memory of the night before came back to him. He remembered sitting there in the pub, slinging back beer like a frat boy and regaling Sarah with the story of how she'd tricked him into becoming the king of the goblins.

 _"Fuck. Fuck. Fuck,"_ he chided himself. What had he done?!

"I was thinking last night," Sarah said, unaware of his inner turmoil. "The sorceress, the one who betrayed you... was it the Morrigan? Is that why she's after you?"

"The Morrigan? I-"

"Excuse me," said a lilting voice behind them. "Are you Sarah Wiliams?"

Sarah turned to see a red-haired waitress standing over her shoulder. "Yes," she answered. "I am."

"There's someone waiting outside to see you," the waitress said.

Sarah wanted to ask who, but the woman had already disappeared into the kitchen.

"Who could have found us here?" Sarah asked Jareth. She wondered if perhaps Keith had called her parents who in turn had sent out Scotland Yard looking for her. She craned her neck to try to see out the window, but saw no flashing lights or police uniforms.

"We should go find out," said Jareth. He laid aside his fork and pushed back from the table, still a bit wobbly on his feet. Sarah followed him closely as he made his way to the door and stepped out, shielding his eyes against the glaring sun.

"Your Majesty! Down here!" cried a little voice excitedly. Jareth and Sarah looked down and saw Squashblossom standing just outside the pub door.

"Squallbladder! What are you doing here?" Jareth asked, surprised but also pleased.

"It's Squashblossom and I'm here to warn you two," she fussed.

"Warn us? Where are the others?" Sarah asked the little dwarf.

"That crazy bitch has them frozen in the castle and has surrounded the whole place with her army. She's waiting for you, Your Majesty!" Squashblossom wailed.

Sarah knelt down and took the dwarf's hands. "Now now," she cooed. "It's going to be all right. You're incredibly brave to come and warn us like this, isn't she Jareth?"

"Oh... um, yes. Quite right," gushed Jareth. "But how did you manage to get out?"

Squashblossom hesitated to answer, unsure of how the king would react.

"I used the tower mirror," she said at last. "Put me right in Sarah's attic."

"My attic? You mean at my parent's house?" asked Sarah.

"Yes, I suppose it must have been. I heard them talking on the phone about how you were here."

"So," thought Sarah. "Keith _did_ call my parents."

"I met your brother," Squashblossom continued. "He's a lovely boy."

"Toby? Is he okay?"

"Oh yes," replied the dwarf. "He sends his love."

Sarah breathed a sigh of relief. The fact that she'd disappeared without a trace or word to anyone was beginning to gnaw at her. At least her family knew she was alive and well.

"What are we gonna do about that awful woman?" asked Squashblossom.

Jareth shook his head. "We can't do anything until we get the _Anima vasa._ It's what she wants anyway. No doubt she's decided to sit back and let us find it and bring it to her."

"How did you find us, Squashblossom?" Sarah asked.

"I asked the right questions and said the right words," the little dwarf woman told her. "What should I do now, Your Majesty?"

Jareth looked down at the brave dwarf and smiled. "If Morrigan wants a fight, then she shall have one," he said. "Squashblossom, I need you to go to Jerusalem."

* * *

The Irish National Museum of Archaeology sat like a giant stone wedding cake on Dublin's grand Kildare Street next to government buildings and Merrion Square. Its domed rotunda and colonnade had been inspired by the Roman Pantheon. Sarah followed Jareth across the cobbled square to the entrance of the imposing building. She looked up in wonder as they stepped into the impressive rotunda that housed the museum gift shop. The domed ceiling rose like a delicate bubble over the shop area and the floor was a beautiful mosaic depicting the figures of the Zodiac. To the far right, Sarah could see the area marked "Reception" and she and Jareth made their way to the sleepy man behind the desk.

"How may I help you?" asked the man whose name badge said Tadgh.

"Yes, hello there," said Jareth. "My colleague and I have an appointment with Ian... what was his last name, Sarah?"

"Ian McGrath," answered Sarah.

"Names?" asked Tadgh.

"Sarah Williams and Jo Kingly," Sarah replied, holding back a laugh at Jareth's expression. He narrowed his odd eyes at her and grimaced.

"Jo Kingly? Really, Sarah?" he asked, obviously annoyed.

Sarah smiled to herself. It wasn't often that she got one in on the Goblin King and she enjoyed rattling him as much as he enjoyed toying with her.

Tadgh pushed some buttons on his computer and scanned the screen. "Ah, yes," he said. "I'll call down and tell Dr. McGrath that you're here."

Sarah and Jareth looked around the museum shop while they waited. The shelves around the rotunda were filled with the typical gift shop items: books and model kits and plastic dinosaurs and stuffed mastodons. Jareth perused a book about ancient Irish gold while Sarah looked through posters of skeletons of dinosaurs and other extinct creatures.

"Miss Williams?" asked a heavily accented voice. Sarah turned and saw Ian McGrath, who she remembered from Keith's pictures. He was a short man with dark hair that was swept back from his face with a generous amount of pomade. He had small dark eyes, but the longest eyelashes Sarah had ever seen on a man. He wore a smart green suit with a blue and green checked shirt underneath and a paisley silk tie.

"Hello Dr. McGrath," she said. "I'm Sarah, I'm a friend of Keith's"

"Yes," said Ian as he reached out and took her hand. "I was rather surprised to hear from Keith out of the blue like that. He was rather intent on setting a meeting up between us. He said it was incredibly important."

Sarah was about to tell him just how important it was when Jareth walked up.

"Who, may I ask, are you?" Ian said with a wide grin. He looked Jareth up and down and Sarah couldn't really blame him. Jareth looked quite fetching in his soft grey polo shirt, charcoal grey trousers and dark loafers. His hair was slicked back behind his ears making his high cheekbones and sharp jawline more prominent.

"Dr. McGrath, this is my colleague, Professor Kingly."

Ian stepped toward Jareth and extended his hand. Jareth smiled and shook his hand warmly. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Dr. McGrath."

"Please, call me Ian."

"Right, Ian."

"Just what can I do for you two?" Ian asked.

Jareth took advantage of Ian's open attention and got right to the point.

"Ian, are you familiar with something called the _Anima vasa_?"

Ian stopped and stared up at the Goblin King. "I might be," he answered slowly.

"How familiar?" Sarah asked.

Ian looked from Sarah to Jareth. "Tell me what you know," he told them.

Sarah took the two gold pieces from her pocket, unwrapped them and showed them to Ian.

"I'll be damned," he gasped as he looked down at the ancient gold fragments. He swallowed hard and turned to Jareth. "I think you should follow me downstairs to the archives. I have something you'll definitely want to see."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title of this chapter comes from an Irish drinking song about a beautiful woman who gets a man drunk and then betrays him.


	10. To Kiss a Thief

The archives of the Irish National Museum of Archaeology consisted of a twisting maze of floor-to-ceiling metal shelves stacked with boxes and crates of every shape and size. In the dimly lit lower level of the museum, Sarah could almost imagine that she was in the Underground Labyrinth. She and Jareth followed closely behind Ian McGrath as he turned this way and that through the disorienting collection of archaeological finds and ancient relics. At last he stopped beside an unassuming box on a lower shelf. Sarah noted that he paused and took a deep breath before reaching out and taking the box. Ian gingerly set the box down on a table and pulled a pair of soft white gloves from his pocket and slid them on.

"Not many people have seen this," Ian breathlessly whispered to Sarah and Jareth. "In fact, by all records, it does not exist."

Sarah and Jareth both leaned in closer as Ian opened the box and pulled out the shining gold object. They collectively gasped as they gazed down at the familiar artifact. The third piece of the _Anima vasa_ glinted brightly even in the dim light of the basement of the museum. Transfixed, Sarah reached out a hand to touch it.

"You mustn't touch it," snapped Ian, snatching the piece away from her grasp. "I shouldn't even be showing it to you."

"Why _are_ you showing it to us?" asked Jareth, moving in to graze against Ian's shoulder. The man let out a little gasp.

"You have not only knowledge of the _Anima vasa,_ but two other pieces as well," Ian answered. "Where did you get them?"

"Let's just say we found them through a bit of good luck," Jareth purred. He gave Ian a sly smile.

Sarah choked back her irritation at the two men obviously flirting with each other. "Why shouldn't they be attracted to each other?" she thought to herself. "They're both drop-dead gorgeous."

She turned her attention back to the small gold artifact Ian held in his gloved hand. It's surface gleamed and seemed to brighten as she gazed at it. In her pocket, the other two pieces grew warm, sending waves of heat and vibration through the fabric of her trousers.

"They _want_ to be together!" Sarah realized suddenly. "They want to be with _**me.**_ "

She looked back at Jareth and Ian who were standing very close to one another.

"It's my understanding that the _Anima vasa_ was made by the gods as a place of safety for the spirit of an immortal," Ian was saying. "According to legend, the complete piece was stolen and misused. It became a prison cell for the essence of a sorceress who had defied the Morrigan."

"A sorceress?" asked Sarah.

"Yes," shrugged Ian. "It's far-fetched to say the least, all the stories of gods and goddesses, wizards and sorceresses, fairies and Fae…"

Jareth drew himself up to his full height and gazed calmly down at Ian. "Be sure," he began, "All legends originate from somewhere and all stories contain at least a grain of truth."

Ian gulped hard and cleared his throat. "Well, be that as it may, I'm sure the museum would be very interested in obtaining the two pieces that you have in your possession."

He gingerly lifted the gold fragment and placed it back in its protective box and then placed it on the shelf.

"I don't believe we are interested in selling, are we Sarah?" said Jareth with a smirk.

Ian laughed. "Don't misunderstand," he told them. "The museum will not buy the pieces from you. However, we will accept them as a donation to our Ancient Legends exhibit."

It was Sarah's turn to laugh. "I don't think so, Dr. McGrath," she replied. "We've gone through quite a bit of trouble to obtain them and we won't just hand them over to your museum."

"Just what have you done, Dr. Williams? What has put you on the run? Keith told me that you've been missing and that you've let quite a dirty trail behind you."

Sarah bristled and opened her mouth to give Ian what-for, but Jareth stepped between them.

"Now now, let's not have any unpleasantness," he said giving Sarah a knowing look. "I think some sort of compromise can be made in regard to the pieces Sarah has. We're not completely unreasonable, after all." He took Ian by the arm and began walking back the way they had come.

"What did you have in mind?" Ian asked, smiling.

Sarah gratefully didn't hear Jareth's answer as the two men turned a corner and disappeared from view. She paused with her back against the dusty shelves until their footsteps grew faint before doubling back, winding through the labyrinth of shelves to where the small box sat on its shelf. She reached out and could already feel the warmth of the fragment radiating from its housing toward her hand. The pieces in her pocket seemed to sing out toward their counterpart, beckoning it to them. Sarah opened the small box and took out the gold fragment. It tingled with heat and magic in her hand. Wrapping it in a bit of cloth, she slid it down the front of her shirt, against her chest. She placed the small box back on the shelf and quickly ran to catch up with the two men before Ian realized she was gone.

Rounding a corner, Sarah trip over a crate, upsetting its contents with a loud clatter. Ahead of her, Ian turned and glanced back.

"What was that?" he cried.

Jareth, with lightning reflexes, reached out a pale hand and took hold of the man's green jacket lapel and pulled him forward. He crashed his mouth against Ian's in a fiery kiss.

Entering the dark hall, Sarah was stopped by the sight of Jareth and Ian in a passionate embrace. She thought to avert her eyes from the intimate moment between them, but was unable to look away. Jareth's beautiful mouth moved over Ian's lips gracefully, yet with ferocity. Ian groaned against Jareth's attacking lips, his hands moved to the Goblin King's shoulders and Sarah felt herself flush as she watched them.

Finally, Jareth released Ian, who stepped back on wobbly legs and let out a satisfied sigh. Jareth smiled at Sarah. Against her breast, the gold fragment pulsed with warmth. It took all her determination to not lay a hand across it and give away her secret.

"Thank you, Ian, for your kind assistance today," Jareth said sweetly.

"Y-you're welcome," the young man stammered in reply.

Jareth held out his hand to Sarah. "Shall we be going, Dr. Williams?"

"Yes," she answered, casting a glance over her shoulder at Ian.

Sarah and Jareth turned and started up the stairs toward the upper levels of the museum.

"Wait," Ian called after them. "Dr. Kingly, I um, have more questions for you. About the pieces for the collection. Is there some way I can contact you? A phone number perhaps?"

Jareth smiled at the young man's poorly veiled attempt to secure his personal contact information.

"I'm afraid I'll be quite out-of-the-way and unreachable for a while," he told Ian. "You do understand, don't you?"

Ian smiled too brightly, showing off his unearthly white teeth. "Perfectly," he replied.

"Thank you again, Dr. McGrath," Sarah said. Ian's smile disappeared and was replaced by a smirk.

"Give my regards to Keith," he told her.

Sarah shook her head and followed Jareth out to the museum rotunda, through the gift shop and out the door. Ian watched them as they left before slipping quietly down a back hall to the small room that served as his office. He sat behind his desk for a reflective moment before opening a drawer and withdrawing a small green stone. He rubbed the stone carefully with his thumb before raising it to his lips and speaking softly to it.

"My goddess," he whispered. "They were here."

* * *

Squashblossom crept stealthily through the narrow streets of the ancient city in search of the safehouse the Goblin King had told her about. Apparently, even a treacherous rat like Jareth had allies.

"If only they'll be willing to help," she thought sadly. Everyone else it seemed had denied the Underground aid. Except for Sarah, and Squashblossom was almost certain that Sarah was helping against her better judgment and maybe even her wishes.

Using the cover of darkness, Squashblossom scurried up a hill toward a stuccoed building that bore the discreet but unmistakable symbol of welcome to Otherkind. She rapped lightly on the door and waited. The door opened a crack and a male voice called down to her.

"Who are you and what is your business here?"

Nervous, but determined, Squashblossom straightened her back and boldly proclaimed, "I am Squashblossom of the Goblin Kingdom. I've been sent here on a mission from the Goblin King. He requests aid. He and the Underground are in grave danger."

The man at the door chuckled. "You would have me to believe that Jareth is entrusting his kingdom's safety to a little dwarfess?'

Squashblossom put her tiny hands on her hips and scowled up at the doorman. "I'll have you know that my husband is basically the Goblin King's right-hand dwarf. He's been frozen by that bitch the Morrigan and so's it's up to me to get help. Now are you gonna let me in or ain't ya?"

Jasper chuckled again. "Calm yourself, little dwarf. I merely jest. Of course you are welcome here." He opened the door and ushered Squashblossom inside.

Jasper called to Laurel who brought a tray of refreshments for the little dwarf woman. After brief introductions, Squashblossom told them everything that had happened with the Underground since the Goblin King had left Jerusalem.

"And now she has her forces laying siege to the castle. She's just waiting for His Majesty to come back and then I don't know what will happen!" Squashblossom cried. "I don't care a goblin's fart about the Goblin King, but I don't want to see nuthin' happen to him. He's a rat, but he takes care of his subjects and don't deserve to come to an ill end. He and that nice Sarah are the only thing standing between us and the black sludge that's taking over the whole kingdom!"

"I don't see what we can do," Jasper told the dwarf. "Our magic is no match for the Morrigan's power."

"You can help us buy some time for His Majesty," Squashblossom replied. "Keep her forces away from the castle. If they take the Goblin King, all is lost for all of us."

Jasper looked at Laurel. "We do owe quite a debt to the Goblin King," he told her.

Laurel put her hand on his. "Everyone here does," she answered. It was true. The safehouse was filled with outcasts and misfits of Otherkind who had been aided, even if indirectly, by the king of the goblins. He had given many of them sanctuary as wished-away children and many more were under his protection from the Fae Council.

"We will hold a meeting tonight, Squashblossom, to determine if and how we can aid His Majesty," said Jasper. "You are welcome to stay here among us until then."

Squashblossom mumbled her thanks as Jasper and Laurel moved away to gather the others for the meeting. She had done all she could; it was out her hands now. The fate of the Underground hung in the balance, and she wished above all hope that the Goblin King's allies would not refuse to give him aid.


	11. Dies Irae

The goddess drummed her long black nails on the arm of her ebony chair. It was only a matter of time before Jareth and Sarah bumbled their way back into the Goblin Kingdom. Her forces were already in place, ready to lay siege to the castle beyond the Labyrinth. All she had to do was wait. Unfortunately, she hated waiting almost as much as she hated the king of the goblins. But with Jareth flying "under the radar" and his ridiculous minions tight-lipped, there was little else to do.

"Curse him and that wench of a girl, Sarah," she fumed. "I should have destroyed them both when I had the chance, Fae Council be damned!"

A ripple in the magical ether made her pause in her tirade and listen, keen ears perked to the faint whisper from the mundane world.

"My goddess, they were here…"

The Morrigan cackled. Jareth had allies, but apparently, so did she.

* * *

Sarah said nothing as she and Jareth rode back to the hotel in a cab. She wasn't certain why she felt so irritated, after all she now had in her possession three of four pieces of the _Anima vasa._

"Perhaps that's what it is," she thought. "It's almost complete and I still know so little about what it is and what it does."

Ian McGrath had told basically the same story she'd heard about the object from the beginning of their little quest: ancient relic, made by the gods, stolen and wrongly used and then broken and scattered. It sounded straightforward enough for someone mildly acquainted with the Other realm, but there was still a sense of foreboding that surrounded the ever-growing object.

"I don't think I want to know what will happen when it's reassembled," she thought with a shudder.

"Sarah dear, you musn't be so jealous," piped up Jareth from the other side of the cab. Sarah looked at him quizzically.

"After all, you had your chance at the hotel but you refused for the sake of human morality."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Sarah asked finally.

"You're so sullen," answered Jareth. "I assumed you were perhaps miffed by my interlude with your friend Ian."

Sarah let out a frustrated sigh. "First of all," she began, "I'm not sullen. I'm just thinking. Second of all, you can stick your tongue down whoever's throat you wish. It makes no difference to me."

Jareth gave her a bit of smug smirk and Sarah turned back and glowered out the window. It did bother her that she had had a front row seat to Jareth and Ian's makeout session. The thought of it made her feel both irritated and turned on at the same time. It bothered her that it _bothered_ her. The way Jareth's mouth had moved against Ian's… She could almost feel it. Her cheeks flushed bright red and she shook the thought away. At her side, Jareth said nothing, but she knew he was probably still smirking, the smug bastard.

"I only kissed him to create a distraction," he told her.

"Whatever."

"You know, after you went blundering about making a big ruckus."

"I don't care, Jareth."

"Which you seem to have a talent for, judging by the state of my kingdom after your last visit,"

"For the last time, I don't give a fu-"

Sarah's retort was cut off as a blast erupted just in front of the cab, sending it hurtling sideways. Time seemed to stop as the cab flew through the air. Sarah watched in wonder as the plexiglass cab partition shattered, sending crystalline shards in all directions. She closed her eyes as the tiny fragments made contact with her skin, raking across her forehead and the arm she raised instinctively to shield her face. The cab flipped and spun like a blown-out tire, flipping and spinning its occupants in turn. Finally the cab came to rest upside down on the sidewalk on the other side of the road. Inside, Sarah moaned as time jarred back into pace.

She could see almost nothing through the acrid smoke. She tried to call out for Jareth, but was unable to make a sound. Scrabbling around in the cab, her hand ran across something warm and sticky and she drew it back with a groan.

"This is bad," she thought. "Very bad."

Where was Jareth? Was he hurt? A horrible thought occurred to her as she gingerly tried to move about the wrecked cab. Was Jareth dead? _Could_ he die?

As her vision cleared, Sarah glanced around the mangled interior of the cab. She was alone in the back seat, both doors of the cab hanging open as smoke continued to billow from the site of the explosion.

"J-Jareth?" she finally managed to call. There was no answer. Coughing and sputtering, Sarah slid toward the open door. She winced against the pain that shot through her side as she moved and prayed that nothing was broken. Slipping out into the hazy daylight and onto the street, she surveyed the scene. A large chunk of the street was missing leaving a charred hole in the pavement. Other battered cars littered the roadside, tossed about like toys by the force of the blast. Sarah could hear moans and a few feeble calls for help. She looked back at the cab. The driver's bloody arm dangled from the front of the vehicle.

"Jareth!" she called out louder. She received no response. Where could he be?

On shaky legs, Sarah braced against the cab and tried to stand. Her side and left ankle throbbed. She looked around as people began coming out onto the street from nearby buildings to see what had happened. She scanned the bloodied bodies that were strewn about the street and shuddered. None of them looked like the goblin king, but the scene was too horrific for her to feel at all grateful.

A shriek from the crowd made her look back toward the blackened crater in the road. A dark, evil form was taking shape above it. Sarah watched in horror as the all-too-familiar silhouette of the Morrigan appeared in the swirling smoke. Around her, there were screams of terror as the goddess lifted her arms over head and produced a whirling ball of white fire from her fingertips. In a panic, the people on the street began to flee, tripping over debris and bodies as they ran.

Sarah's blood ran cold as the pieces fit together and she realized the cause of the explosion. The Morrigan had found her and Jareth and she intended to destroy them. She looked around wildly for any sign of Jareth, but there were only panicked people scrambling about the street.

"Where is he?!" her mind screamed. "What do I do?!"

" _Run,"_ came the faint whisper. Sarah whirled around but there was no one near. She looked back at the goddess who was scanning the crowd, her eyes nearing the spot where Sarah stood.

" _Run!"_ The whisper was more insistent.

Sarah ducked her head under the goddess's encroaching gaze and took off in a half sprint/half hobble across the broken pavement. She glanced from side to side as she moved, looking for any glimpse of Jareth. There was no sign of him, only twisted metal, mangled bodies and gore. Sarah shuddered again as she ran from the scene, biting her lip from the pain in her side and ankle. Behind her, the goddess roared.

"I'll find you!" she cried above the wailing crowd. "I'll hunt you down and destroy you!"

The ground beneath Sarah's feet began to rumble nearly throwing her off balance. She moved faster, her eyes focused forward. She knew she had to get out of sight and out of the line of fire. Just ahead of her to the right she could see a narrow alley between two tall buildings. Sarah charged toward it, screaming in pain as she ran. She threw herself into the safety of the shadowed alley just as the Morrigan unleashed her fiery fury once more on the roadway. The buildings shook around her, but remained steady and upright. The people and cars on the street were not so lucky. The blast caused further destruction. Those unable to flee in time were tossed into the air like rag dolls, landing with a sickening thud onto the scorched roadway. Cars were hurled upward and outward by the force of the explosion. Lower level windows were blown out, showering nasty shards of glass over the already wounded victims.

Sarah pushed herself up and leaned her back against the brick wall of one of the sheltering buildings. She could hear screams and groans and alarms going off in the street. She could smell smoke and blood and death. It was clear to her that the Morrigan had every intention to kill her if she found her.

"Don't let her find you," she told herself. She forced her aching body up from the ground and continued hobbling down the alley. Sarah darted in and out of narrow streets, delving further into the heart of the city and further from the vengeful goddess. She could hear the wail of emergency vehicles in the distance, but around her the dark allies were silent.

Nearing exhaustion, Sarah spied an open gate leading into a broad tunnel. She limped through the gate and shut it behind her. The tunnel angled downward before leveling parallel to the street above it. It was obviously an access point for road work or construction, but at the moment it seemed to be deserted. Sarah followed the slope of the tunnel downward below the road and into a series of chambers piled with equipment, cement blocks and stacks of metal. She pawed through the mess, coming away with a small lantern and a plastic tarp. She placed the items in one of the emptier chambers before returning for one more thing. The rebar scraped against the concrete floor as Sarah dragged it behind her. There was no way she was going to stay down here defenseless.

It was the first time in days that Sarah was not in the company of the Goblin King. She tried not to think of what could have happened to him. If he had survived the first explosion he may not have escaped the second. If he _were_ capable of dying and had done so, she was on her own.

"But he can't be," she thought. "He's magic after all… He isn't dead. He just can't be."

Sarah huddled shivering under the tarp as night crept over the city. The small lantern kept the shadows away but not the cold. The chill made her ankle ache even more. She gently massaged it and then lifted her shirt to examine her throbbing side. Her ribs were a nasty mottle of black and blue. As she pulled her shirt back down, a shining piece of gold metal clattered to the ground sending an echo down the passageway. Sarah picked up the object and looked at it and gasped. Jumping up from the floor, she stuffed her hands down into the pockets of her cargo pants, desperately searching. Her hands touched metal and Sarah almost let out a whoop. It was all still there! She held all three pieces of the _Anima vasa_ in her hands. In the aftermath of the explosions, she had completely forgotten about the pieces of the ancient relic she had shoved into her clothing. Miraculously, she hadn't lost them in her mad dash to escape the wrath of the goddess.

Sitting back down on the cold floor, Sarah laid the pieces out in front of her. She slid the first two together until their jagged edges touched before picking up the third. It pulsed between her fingers and sent a glimmering light out over the dark chamber. Carefully, Sarah slid the third piece toward its sisters. The air in the chamber buzzed and crackled with energy as the pieces moved together, almost touching…

A rustle outside the chamber made Sarah freeze, hands hovering above the three gold fragments. She quickly swept them up into her hands before depositing them into different pockets in her cargo pants. Grabbing the long piece of rebar, Sarah limped to the door of the chamber, wielding the rebar like a baseball bat. The rustling continued, getting louder as it drew closer. She thought about the nightmare that had awakened her at the beginning of all this mess. Jareth had been with her in the dream, bound and somewhat useless, but he'd been there. Where was he?

The rusting stopped just outside the door of the chamber. Sarah held her breath and tightened her grip on the rebar. Was she really going to take on a goddess with some mundane building material? A shadow moved in the doorway and Sarah lifted her weapon above her head. She gasped as the light from the small lantern illuminated the face of the intruder. The rebar clanged to the floor as Sarah threw herself at the figure in the doorway.


	12. Raglan Road

"Jareth!" Sarah cried as she flew at him and wrapped her arms tightly around him. He winced in pain as she pressed herself against his battered chest. While he was hardly considered mortal, he was nonetheless susceptible to injury and pain. Sarah stepped back when she noticed his uncomfortable stiffening.

"Are you okay?" she asked, looking him up and down.

Jareth knew he must look a mess. His white-blonde hair was smutted with black smoke and his face was streaked with flecks of dried blood from the victims of the Morrigan's rampage. He looked down at his chest where his shirt front hung open, shredded to ribbons by flying glass and shrapnel. An ugly red scar ran across his chest from his left shoulder to the middle of his right side. It glowed angry crimson in the light of the small lantern.

"I thought you were dead," Sarah gushed. "I wondered if you _could_ die, but I couldn't find you anywhere and I called and then she was about to blow me off the map and I just ran. I looked for you, I swear I did. I just couldn't… I didn't…" she paused, choking up.

Jareth reached out a hand and laid it on her shoulder. "Sarah, it's ok," he told her. "I know. It was chaos. I looked for you too…"

In truth, he had been nearly beside himself with worry when he came to on the side of the road. Sarah was nowhere to be seen, but he could sense the dark magic hanging in the ether. Its electric tang coated his tongue like the taste of blood. He knew they were in grave danger.

It had been difficult to see Sarah through the smoke and stampede of fleeing people, but he'd finally spotted her, a hundred yards back, crouched beside the crumpled cab. He had tried to call out to her, but his voice was lost amongst the screaming crowd and the roar of the angry goddess. Closing his eyes, he had whispered an urgent message directly to her: _Run._

She hadn't moved, but he knew she had heard him because she had whirled around, desperately searching. But there was no time. The goddess was bearing down on her.

" _Run!"_ he had commanded again and she had gratefully obeyed. Ducking her head, she had scrambled across the street and out of sight. He had watched her eyes dart about as she limped away and he knew she was looking for him.

"Don't look back, just run for all your worth!" he'd wanted to scream, but she had disappeared from view just as the goddess released another round of her fury. The air around him had erupted in fire and molten metal. On instinct, he had thrown up a magical shield around himself, but it provided only minimal protection against the power of the goddess. Searing metal and glass bit into his skin. Flame and smoke singed his hair and he was thrown backwards several meters onto what was left of the sidewalk. He had lain still as the goddess screamed curses over the scene before disappearing as quickly as she had come.

Sitting up and looking around, Jareth had surveyed the site. Bodies lay strewn about the roadway. Cars were scattered in all directions, their windows blown out and doors hanging open. Metal and glass and blood-streaked debris littered the entire area. Jareth's stomach lurched at the horrific scene.

"Sarah," he thought desperately. "Where is Sarah?"

He had seen her disappear into an alleyway, but couldn't be sure she'd been protected from the second blast. On shaky legs, he had stood and picked his way over the debris and the dead and followed the route he had watched her take. He had found the alley deserted and breathed a sigh of relief. Following her essence, he had wound a path through the network of narrow streets and dark passages until at last he'd found her hiding place. And now she stood before him, bruised and bloody and shivering, but alive.

Jareth reached out and gently pulled her in close to his chest. Sarah laid her head against his jagged scar and they were both silent for a long moment. Finally, Sarah spoke, her voice barely a whisper.

"How did you find me?"

The Goblin King looked down at her. Her face and hair were covered in grime and there was a bloody streak across her forehead. Her clothing was filthy and torn in places. She was a far cry from the darkly elegant creature that had bewitched him centuries before, but to him she had never looked more beautiful than in that moment.

"I'll always find you, Sarah," he answered. "Through eons and enchantments and dangers untold and hardships unnumbered, we keep coming back around to one another."

"I don't understand," Sarah said, pulling away.

"Never mind," Jareth told her. "We must get out of Dublin."

"But where do we go now?" asked Sarah. "We can't go back to the inn…"

"No, we'll have to stay here, out of sight," the Goblin King answered. "Tomorrow we'll travel to a safehouse and make a plan from there."

"How can any place be safe after this, Jareth? The Morrigan is dead-set on killing us both and I'm afraid you're going to run out of people who are willing to stick their necks out to help you."

Jareth smiled. "I'm afraid you'll just have to trust me, Sarah dear."

Sarah glowered and limped off the other end of the small chamber. "I have trusted you, Jareth. I've trusted you through this whole thing and nearly died because of it. Yet, you don't trust me enough to tell me the truth about what the hell this thing is or does."

She pulled the three fragments of the _Anima vasa_ out of her pockets and held them up for him to see. "I know this concerns me somehow, Jareth. I heard what you said to Min. You said that whatever is taking over the Underground is because of me. You told her you would destroy me…"

"I told her I would destroy you if I _had_ to. I don't plan to _have_ to, Sarah," Jareth shot back. "But you simply must trust me and not question. We've been over all this. I'll explain everything in time, but it's safer for you and for everyone involved if you don't know everything until you must."

"Why?"

"Don't question, Sarah! Just trust me, for fuck's sake!"

The room was silent for a long time, Sarah studying the gold fragments in her hands and Jareth staring a hole through the dirt floor.

"Fine," Sarah said at last. "I've trusted you this far, Jareth."

She stepped toward him and looked him hard in the face. "Just promise me that you won't just abandon me somewhere when you get whatever it is you're after."

"Sarah," Jareth began, but choked back his reply. He couldn't promise her that, not after what she'd done to him. Twice. He still wanted her, desperately, but he wasn't about to let his damned emotional baggage deter him from the task at hand. Thankfully, a clatter from somewhere in the tunnels echoed through the chamber startling Sarah enough to drop the conversation. She lifted the hem of her tattered shirt to redeposit one of the fragments into its hiding place, revealing the deep purple bruise across her ribs.

"You're injured," said Jareth, concerned. "Let me see."

Before Sarah could reply, he had pulled her to him, lifted her shirt over her ribs and placed a hand over the ugly bruise. Sarah gasped as his fingers slid gently down over her ribs and back up to her breast bone.

"The bruising is deep and will most likely be tender for a few days" Jareth told her, releasing her and pulling her shirt back down, "but nothing is broken."

"G-good," Sarah sputtered. Her skin still tingled with the memory of his fingers on her flesh.

"I don't dare use magic to heal it," Jareth told her.

"It's fine," Sarah replied a little too forcefully. She backed away from him and sat down beside the lantern, wrapping the plastic tarp around her shoulders.

"Go to sleep, Sarah," said the Goblin King. She didn't answer, but stretched out on the ground and turned onto her side, facing away from him.

Jareth rummaged in his pockets and produced a lighter and a crumpled pack of cigarettes. He stuck a cigarette between his lips and lit it before seating himself on the ground with his back against the block wall.

"Hell of a day," he thought as he took a long drag of his cigarette. He leaned his head back and blew gray smoke up into the air. He was so close to having everything he had hoped for. There was only one piece of the _Anima vasa_ left to find. Sure, it could be anywhere, but he was much further in his quest than he'd dared to dream in the beginning. Sarah's questions were starting to trouble him, however. He had little use for conscience, but the question of what would happen in the end needled at him. He had no intention of letting anything drag him and the Underground down out of existence. But Sarah…

He shook his head. Sarah. What a bloody pain in the ass she had been all these years. She had turned his world upside down too many times for his liking. Yet, he came running every time she called.

He looked over at where she lay shivering beneath the plastic tarp.

"Fuck," he cursed aloud and stamped out his cigarette.

Jareth quietly crept to her side and stretched out beside her. He reached out and gently drew her to him. She started at the sudden contact.

"Shh," he whispered to her. "I mean nothing untoward. You're cold…"

Sarah didn't argue, but let him pull her in close. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and pressed himself against her back, protecting her from the chill air in the dark chamber. Slowly, her shivering stopped and she drifted off to sleep. Jareth closed his eyes, but between his nagging guilt and the sleeping girl in his arms, sleep was hard to come by.

* * *

Hoggle and Sir Didymus heard the marching feet long before they could see them. From their position in the throne room the gathering forces weren't visible until they were almost to the forest outside the Goblin City. Unable to move most of his small body, Hoggle could only turn his head and look out the window to see the tops of the helmets of the gathering forces of the Morrigan's army.

"This doth not fare well, friend Hoggle," said Didymus.

"No, it don't," answered Hoggle. "And there's still no sign of my sweet Squashblossom!"

"Don't fear," Didymus told him. "I'm certain fair Squashblossom is with His Majesty and Sarah and they are all on their way at this very moment to save us all!"

Hoggle sniffled, unconvinced. "If anything's happened to my precious little bog-flower I will never forgive that rat of a goblin king!"

Ludo lumbered up the stairs and into the throne room before Sir Didymus could reply. He carried two wooden bowls full of steaming stew made from the vegetables that Hoggle and Squashblossom had brought. He sat down in a chair between the knight and the dwarf and filled a spoon with the savory stew.

"Eat," he purred. He ladled stew first into Didymus' mouth and then Hoggle's.

"My arms work, ya big hairball," muttered Hoggle.

Shaking his large head, Ludo handed them each a bowl before moving to the window to watch the Morrigan's shining army march out of the forest.

"Bad news," growled the beast.

"It is indeed, dear brother," replied Sir Didymus. "But we musn't give up hope. All is not lost."

"Yet," grumbled Hoggle.

"'Tis true that things seem grim," the knight began. "After all, we have the Morrigan's forces approaching from the south through the forest and the evil sludge is slinking from the north over the Stone Mountains. But I have faith that His Majesty and Lady Sarah will return soon and set all aright." He nodded as if to convince himself.

Hoggle and Ludo looked at him with a mixture of admiration for his optimism and sadness for his delusion. They all knew the situation was dire if not hopeless. It was only a matter of time. The trio fell into an uneasy silence, the dark throne room filled only with sighs and the slurping of stew.

* * *

Jareth woke with Sarah's head on his arm, her face turned to his and her breath against his cheek. He moaned uncomfortably, having spent the night on the cold, hard ground beneath Dublin. Beside him, Sarah stirred and opened her eyes in the dim light of the chamber.

"What time is it?" she groaned.

"Time to be going," Jareth answered as he stood and dusted himself off. He extended a hand to Sarah and lifted her to her feet. Her ankle was still a bit sore and she tried unsuccessfully to hide her wince as she put weight on it.

"Lean on me if you need to," Jareth told her, offering his arm.

"I'm okay," she answered. "It's just a bit stiff." She hobbled past him toward the door and he shrugged, well-acquainted with her pride.

"Where are going to go?" Sarah asked him as they followed the tunnels back up toward the street level.

"There's a safehouse near Wicklow, about thirty miles from here," answered Jareth. "We should be able to get provisions and information there."

"Shouldn't we try to clean up a bit?" Sarah asked looking at her stained shirt and torn pants. "We look homeless."

"Exactly," Jareth answered with a wry smile as they left the underground tunnels and hustled back into the city.

It was eerily quiet. The events of the day before had brought the city to a stand-still. No one was on the street. Everyone was at home in front of the television watching the news of the "terror attacks" on central Dublin. Stores were shuttered, transportation was shut down, even most of the pubs were closed. Jareth didn't like being so open and exposed.

"We have to find a way out of this city," he muttered.

Sarah looked around at the empty streets and deserted buildings and spotted a neon sign flashing in the window of a small pub down the street. They entered the empty, dimly-lit pub and moved toward the bar. The barkeep and delivery man stood side-by-side behind the bar, eyes firmly glued to the live news coverage.

"Excuse me," Jareth called to the barkeep. The man finally turned around and stared at the two grubby and disheveled strangers standing in his bar.

"What d'ya want?" he asked gruffly. "I'll not be giving any handouts."

"We're just trying to get to Wicklow," Jareth told the man. "But it appears everything is shut down."

"Yes," the bartender answered. "Shut down due to the terrorists. Where have ya been?"

"Actually," chimed in Sarah, "We were there. At the scene. In fact, we've just left the hospital. We're lucky to be alive with only cuts and bruises."

The man looked them over again, taking note of their ruined clothing and blood-smeared faces. "Oh!" he cried. "Come in, friends and have a seat." He motioned for them to sit and quickly served them both a healthy pint.

"I'm afraid we don't have any money," said Jareth.

"Yes," said Sarah. "You see, we're tourists and we lost all our travel belongings in the explosions."

The barkeeper shook his head and tutted. "Drinks are on the house this morning. No one is comin' in today anyway." He turned back to the television. "Tis a nasty business," he said. "I thought we were done with this sort of thing…"

"Would you happen to know how we could get to Wicklow?" Jareth asked, taking a long draught from his beer.

The barkeeper nudged the delivery man who finally turned around and acknowledged Jareth and Sarah. "These poor folks need to get to Wicklow, Rogan," the barkeeper told the delivery man. "You'll be going past there today, won't ya?"

The delivery man nodded. "Things bein' what they are, I suppose I can offer you a lift."

"Thank you very much, Rogan," Sarah said warmly.

And so it was that a half hour and a few beers later, Sarah and Jareth found themselves bumping along in the front of the beer delivery truck as it rumbled down the highway southward toward the safehouse near the coast. The highway was deserted save for emergency vehicles and other delivery trucks.

Arriving in Wicklow, Jareth directed Rogan to drop them at a hotel in the city centre.

"Thank you, dear fellow," said Jareth as he hopped down from the truck's cab. "I won't forget your kindness."

Rogan blushed. "Just happy to help some folks in need." He leaned in close to Sarah. "Be careful. Take care of that one there," he said, nodding toward Jareth. He pressed a few crumpled bills into Sarah's hand before she exited the truck and then drove away.

Sarah looked around at the unfamiliar street. "Where's the safehouse?" she asked.

"About five miles from here," answered Jareth. Seeing Sarah's puzzled expression he continued. "The Morrigan has eyes and ears everywhere. I could not compromise the safehouse and its occupants by allowing Rogan to know its location."

Sarah supposed his reasoning made sense and turned to follow him down the road toward the coast.

* * *

The Morrigan fumed and raged. How had they escaped her? She knew where they would be and when and had laid waste to the entire area. Still, they had somehow slipped through. No doubt they had been tipped off by the treacherous Ian at the museum. She would deal with him later. She had bigger problems to deal with. Sarah and Jareth had three pieces of the _Anima vasa!_ If they managed to find the other they would possess the secrets of the relic to use against her. The Fae Council simply could not know what she had done. They would strip her of her authority, of her power. But even worse than the secrets that the _Anima vasa_ held was the power it held. Power that could only be wielded by its true mistress. If Sarah ever knew…

"But wait," thought the goddess. "Sarah _doesn't_ know. She doesn't know who she is, what she's done! If someone were to allow her to find out the awful truth, she would finally see what the Goblin King is really after. She would be furious, devastated. A woman scorned."

The goddess cackled. "The truth shall set you free indeed Sarah, Mistress of the Half Moon. And when it does, you will destroy the Goblin King and the Underground!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title of this chapter comes from a sweet Irish folk tune of the same name by Patrick Kavanagh. Look it up, it's lovely!


	13. Castle in the Air

Sarah glanced out over the rocky coast where she and Jareth had stopped. She frowned, her brows furrowing as she took in the sight of the crumbling ruins and jagged outcropping of shoreline. Jareth had told her there was a fortress, but all she saw was rubble.

"There's nothing here, Jareth," she said. "It looks as if this place was destroyed centuries ago."

Beside her, Jareth smiled. How little the mortal girl remembered of magic and the realm of _Other._ Stepping forward, Jareth placed his hand between two unassuming stones and pushed downward. Sarah gasped as the empty space between the crumbling towers rippled and shimmered like a distant mirage. In the flux of the wrinkling veil, Sarah could make out the shape of a stone fortress, whole and majestic, standing like a beacon between the gray sky and the gray-green ocean below. The castle pulsed into existence, its high turrets draped in green and gold banners embroidered with intricate knots. Green and gold flags flew atop the stone towers, whipping in the wild ocean winds.

"Sarah," Jareth said as they approached the looming castle, "Welcome to Caisleán Dubh."

As if on cue, the portcullis of the castle rattled upward revealing a set of enormous wooden doors. The doors swung open wide, inviting them in. Sarah hesitated at the entrance and Jareth lightly grasped her elbow, drawing her forward with him.

"How?" she stammered.

"This is a place of refuge," the Goblin King told her. "As such, it must be hidden. The ruins you saw were merely a strong glamour. The castle is only visible to those who know the way."

"We'll be safe here," Sarah said, not so much asking as stating a fact.

"Yes, perfectly," Jareth answered.

"And there are, er… _people_ here will help us?"

"Yes," Jareth was growing impatient. "Shall we go in and get some clean clothes and a decent meal?"

Sarah's stomach grumbled in answer and she followed the goblin monarch through the heavy wooden doors and into the cavernous entryway. The great hall was empty and dark, but bits of personal belongings littered the floor here and there as if someone had left in a great hurry.

"Where is everyone?" Sarah asked, looking about the abandoned hall.

Jareth raised an elegant brow. "I don't know," he replied.

Something was amiss. Caisleán Dubh was always bustling with activity. Its position on the coast made it a popular place for Otherkind to not only seek asylum, but also to take a holiday.

"There should be someone here," Jareth muttered to no one in particular.

"Only me here," said a scratchy voice with a deep, Slavic accent. Sarah and Jareth turned and saw a scraggly woman leaned against the door of the entry hall. She was impossibly thin, with straw-like gray hair and a large hooked nose. She wore a tattered black robe that hung from her bony frame like a heavy shroud.

"Jaga," Jareth said, approaching the crone. "Where has everyone gone?"

The old woman shrugged and waved a gnarled hand in front of her face. "Away," she answered.

"Away?" echoed Sarah.

"Yes. All gone. Only me."

"But why?" Jareth asked.

The old woman cackled. "Because of you, Goblin King. Goddess look for you. Everyone leave."

Jareth visibly wilted and leaned a pale hand against the wall to steady himself. They had all fled and deserted him. All of them. He had been abandoned by the last of his allies. He dared to look back at Sarah, expecting to see a gloating I-told-you-so expression on her face. The look of pity she gave him instead was worse. A mortal girl, pitying the king of the goblins. How ludicrous.

"Jareth," she whispered, reaching out to touch his arm. He shrugged away from her and stomped down the lark dark hallway, leaving her alone with the old woman.

"Come," the crone said, taking Sarah's hand in her bony grasp. "You need food and drink." She paused and looked Sarah up and down and grimaced.

"But first bath," she said.

* * *

Squashblossom marched over the marshy plain just outside the outer gate of the Labyrinth. The garden where Hoggle spent much of his time pruning hedgerows and spraying for fairies was hardly recognizable. She chewed her bottom lip as she made her way toward the large gate.

"I hope it's not too late," she thought.

The area was eerily quiet. No birdsong, no rustle of worms in the twisting vines that covered the walls of the Labyrinth. Looking up over the glistening walls, Squashblossom could see the Stone Mountains, inky black against the orange sky. The slime had crested the mountains and was slinking down the other side toward the Goblin City and the castle beyond its gates. Far at the other end of the horizon, flames from the camp of the Morrigan's forces flickered in the dying light. She reasoned that the Morrigan intended to lay siege to the city and the castle, forcing them all backwards into the path of the engulfing sludge. It was hardly a fair fight.

She turned and faced the ragtag band of misfits that followed her.

"There ain't much chance of victory," she told them. "We're most likely marching to our doom, so's if any of ya want to go back, I won't hold it against ya."

No one in the crowd moved or even flinched. Squashblossom shrugged and turned and pushed open the imposing gate leading into the twisting Labyrinth.

* * *

Sarah found Jareth standing along the edge of the castle walls, staring out at the icy swirling sea. The salt-sprayed wind whipped through his hair and tugged at his dark clothing. He had cleaned himself up as she had done, Sarah noted. He wore ebony leather pants and boots and a deep black shirt with billowing sleeves. Jet black gloves covered the hands that were clenched tightly against the stone wall of the castle.

Sarah stepped out onto the turreted landing, the wind swirling her green skirt around her legs and lashing her dark hair about her face. The old woman had seen to it that she had been thoroughly scrubbed and put into new clothes before she led her down to the kitchen and served up a generous plate of savory meats and cheese with dark brown bread and a lemony ale to drink. Sated, Sarah had gone in search of the Goblin King, following the twisting maze of empty corridors and winding staircases until she'd been spit out at the top of one of the battlements.

Jareth didn't turn or acknowledge her presence when she took her place beside him overlooking the crashing foam-covered waves below. Sarah remained silent, studying the hard lines of his face, his thin lips drawn down into a scowl. She wanted to take his hand, to tell him it would be all right, but she knew better. He would despise her disregard for the gravity of his situation. Would likely sneer at her sanguiness.

"What can I do?" she asked instead.

Jareth snorted. "You've done enough."

Sarah didn't fully understand what he meant, but his words stung her anyway and she turned to leave.

"Sarah, wait," Jareth called after her. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean that. I'm just… just…"

Sarah covered his gloved hand with hers. "I know," she told him. "It's okay."

"No, it isn't," he grunted in return. "It's bloody awful. We- _I_ have been forsaken by the ones I have always protected. My kingdom is on the verge of obliteration. The Morrigan is determined to destroy me and I have few if any options left."

"The others were probably scared," Sarah told him. "Can you blame them after what the Morrigan did in Dublin? And as for options, we still have this." She pulled the gleaming fragments of the _Anima vasa_ from the pockets of her long skirt.

Jareth shook his head. "Three fourths of that is not going to be enough to stop the goddess and save the Underground."

"Well then, we have to keep looking," Sarah answered matter-of-factly.

The Goblin King turned and leaned his side against the wall of the battlements and regarded her quizzically.

"Is there no limit to your determination?" he asked, only half joking.

"Not when it's a cause I care about, Your Majesty." Her deep green eyes met and held his gaze, a challenge. Sarah continued to hold his gaze and her breath as he stepped toward her, purpose gleaming in his odd eyes.

"Sarah," he whispered huskily.

The door to the battlement flew open at that moment and the old woman appeared at the top of the landing. "Message come for you," she said as she climbed out of the dark stairway carrying a crisp white envelope.

Jareth held his hand out to her but she swatted it away. "Not for you, for girl," she said handing the envelope to Sarah.

"Who could it be from?" Sarah asked. "Who even knows we're here?"

The old woman only shrugged. "Open and find out."

Sarah carefully opened the sealed envelope and unfolded an engraved invitation. She read the invitation several times before handing it to the Goblin King. His face brightened as he read it.

"This is certainly an interesting turn of events," he said as he gave the invitation back to Sarah.

"You realize it's most likely a trap," Sarah said.

"Of course."

"But we're still going, aren't we?"

Jareth didn't answer right away, but smugly smiled and studied Sarah's figure.

Finally he asked, "Sarah dear, what do you say to a bit of shopping?"

* * *

"Your impatience will be your undoing, Morrigan," cooed Maeve, looking over the goddess's pointed shoulder. The older woman sneered.

"Keep to your own business, Maeve, and leave me to mine. This does not concern you," she barked.

"Perhaps not," the younger woman said sweetly. "But I happen to know that the Fae Council would certainly find it concerning, _goddess."_

"You know nothing," spat the Morrigan.

"Oh don't I?" purred Maeve. "You think I don't know that it was you who stole the _Anima vasa_ from the Council treasury? That you used forbidden magic against one of your own?"

The goddess's nostrils flared and Maeve knew that her words had hit her mark.

"I wonder what they will do to you when they learn the truth?"

The Morrigan rounded on her before she could blink. She grasped her firmly by the back of her neck, pulling her toward her snarling mouth.

"Do not _ever_ dare to threaten me, little one," the goddess hissed, flecks of spittle landing on Maeve's horrified face. "I did not hesitate to make an example of my protege, and I will certainly show no mercy to the likes of you." She shoved the younger woman away before continuing.

"As for the _Anima vasa_ , it will no longer be a concern very soon. The secrets it holds will destroy both the Goblin King and the stupid mortal girl before they ever have a chance to taste its power."

* * *

Sarah glanced around the glittering shop in awe. Dresses of every cut and hue sparkled from the racks. Some were simple and sleek, others were feathery, ornate confections that bordered on ostentatious. She picked up one of the gaudier gowns, a purple silk number with a beaded bodice and black feathers at the collar. It would have looked at home at the garish peach-dream masquerade ball where she had Jareth had shared a dance.

"If that was even real," Sarah thought.

It had felt real. She had felt the breath of the revelers on her neck and arms as she moved through the crowd. She had felt their eyes on her as she danced with the Goblin King, his arm protectively around her waist as he crooned a soft ballad to her. Sarah placed the purple gown back on the rack and sighed.

"I'm sorry," Sarah told Jareth and the shopkeeper, a stuffy little man in a blue pinstripe suit and shoes so shiny she could see her reflection. "I'm not much of a shopper."

Jareth gaped at her. "Sarah, you are shopping on La Via del Corso, in one of the finest…" The stuffy little shopkeeper cleared his throat and Jareth corrected himself. " _Mi scusi,_ in _the_ finest shop in all of Rome. Surely you can feign some interest."

Sarah looked around again at the array of ballgowns and elegant evening-wear and shrugged. "It's just too difficult to decide," she told him.

"Very well, I will decide for you," said the Goblin King.

Sarah started to protest, but Jareth put a gloved finger to her lips.

"We are in a bit of a rush, are we not? We can't afford to dilly-dally. Besides," he grinned, "I happen to have excellent taste."

Sarah groaned but didn't argue further. The tiresome quest they were on had left her too exhausted to haggle with Jareth over her clothing. She had to save some strength for the next part of the journey. She took out the formal invitation and read it once more.

_You are cordially invited to the Ballo in Maschera di Quirinalia_

_Leave your inhibitions behind and live your wildest dreams during an evening of music, dancing and indulgent feasting!_

_Time: Dusk of February 17 until ?_

_Place: Quirinal Palace_

_Come dressed to impress!_

A handwritten informal note was scrawled on the back of the engraved invitation:

_I sincerely hope you and His Majesty will attend my little party. I have a lovely tidbit that may be of interest to you. It seems to have attracted some unwelcome attention of late and I would hate for it to fall into the wrong hands, if you understand my meaning. Of course, nothing is for free among our kind, so please come prepared to make it worth my while._

_Most Sincerely, R_

Soon after Sarah had received the engraved invitation, she and Jareth had packed up some supplies from the storerooms at Caisleán Dubh with the help of Jaga. Loaded with funds, some extra clothes and a few phony passports, they had hired a small plane to carry them to France where they then boarded a train for Rome, Italy.

Upon arriving, Jareth had dragged her though a dazzling assortment of high-end stores offering sleek leather goods, exquisite custom-made shoes and an enticing array of gold jewelry. Sarah's head was spinning from the sights and sounds and colors. The pieces of the _Anima vasa_ were heavy in her pockets, despite their small size; the weight of them quickly tired her and left her drained and with an aching head. Jareth appeared not to notice and if he had, he said nothing, but continued negotiating with craftsmen and shop owners. Sarah took a seat on a plush leather sofa in the dress shop while Jareth perused the racks, followed closely by the shopkeeper. Her eyes felt so heavy she decided to close them for just a moment. She had not slept well on the train. The rocking and click-clacking over the tracks had kept her awake. The voices in the shop became muffled and distant and she felt herself falling.

" _I...I thought you loved me," he stammered. "I freed you because I love you. I bound myself to this place for you. All of this… I've done this all for you."_

" _No," she sneered. "Not all for me. You got a taste of power and me and you wanted us both." She reached out and touched his pale beautiful face. "I'll make one admission," she continued. "I could have loved you. I wanted to."_

" _Sarah," he whispered as a tear slid down his cheek. It made her almost sorry. Almost._

" _Sarah please," he begged. "Don't leave me alone in this place." She turned away from him, willing her heart to stone._

" _You won't be alone, my love," she answered coldly. The imps shrieked above her and Jareth looked up and quailed._

" _See?" she continued, "I haven't left you in solitude. Goodbye, my love." She felt her feet lift from the cursed ground. Elated, she flew upward toward the dark clouds that rumbled and flickered with lightning. She heard his voice calling for her. Begging. Pleading. In a moment of weakness, she glanced back. Like Lot's wife of legend, that backward glance sealed her fate._

_Rain-soaked and blind with grief, Jareth hurled himself at the sky. The curse held fast however and he crashed back to the ground. She watched him rise and try again, only to come crashing down in a heap once more. Over and over, he tried unsuccessfully to follow her flight. Sarah turned away, unable to watch. A sob took root deep in her bosom stealing her breath and making her clutch desperately at her heart. She flew away into the night whispering a promise to the stars._

" _I'll come back. Somehow. I will come back for him."_

Sarah awoke with a start, rising up from the leather sofa with a ragged sob on her lips and tears streaming down her cheeks. She put her hands over her eyes, willing away the visual memory of Jareth's desperate, pleading face. When she uncovered her face, the Goblin King was standing in front of her with a grave look of concern.

"Sarah," he began, "What have you seen?"

She shook her head. "Nothing," she lied. "It was just a bad dream."

Jareth continued to stare down at her, unconvinced, but didn't push the matter further.

"We are finished here," he told her. "Our purchases will be delivered to the hotel before the ball this evening. I suggest we rest in the meantime. You look dreadful, Sarah."

"Thanks, Jareth," Sarah tossed back as she pushed herself off the luxe sofa. "This party we're attending tonight… it's a costume ball, yes?"

"That is the literal translation of _Ballo in Maschera_ ," Jareth responded.

Sarah chose to ignore his sarcasm.

"So, what kind of wild, flamboyant costumes did you pick out for us?"

The Goblin King grinned wickedly. "Hades and Persephone," he answered. "What else?"


	14. Matto e Re

A smoky haze hung over the camp where the Morrigan's forces waited. She carefully picked a path over the soggy plain outside the dark forest toward the tent of her general, Torin. He greeted her with a low bow as she approached.

"Goddess," he said.

The Morrigan waved off his deference. "What news?" she asked.

Straightening himself, Torin pointed across the plain toward the distant Labyrinth. "There is word," he began, "that a small band has entered the Labyrinth and are headed toward the castle. I feel, however, that they pose very little threat."

"You do, do you?" croaked the goddess. "Pray tell, why is this?"

Torin swallowed hard under the icy gaze of the goddess. "There is only a small number of them. They have no armor and minimal weapons. They would be easily dispatched."

"Torin," began the Morrigan as she circled the general, "I am learning a difficult lesson about the importance of never underestimating an opponent. They can have the most unpleasant way of surprising you."

She stepped away from the general and looked toward the Labyrinth where Squashblossom and the small group that followed her wound their way through the twisting maze.

"I will take care of this… infestation," she hissed.

She disappeared from the camp, transporting herself to a high vantage point just beyond the Stone Mountains. Closing her eyes, the Morrigan began spinning a spell, speaking forgotten words of dark power and ancient magic. Unseen threads began to rise from the borders of the Underground like spider silk, weaving an enchanted tapestry around the Goblin Realm. The Morrigan smiled at her handiwork. The threads would continue to tighten, slowly closing in on the Underground and keeping its inhabitants locked in and any would-be allies out.

She returned to her dark tower without a word to Torin or her forces about what she had done. When the threads fully closed, they would be cut off from ever returning to the bright realm of the Seelie, but it was of little consequence to her. She could easily form a new army. She had bigger problems to contend with. It was only a matter of time before she crossed paths once more with the Goblin King and the girl, and she was going to make absolutely certain that this meeting would be the last.

* * *

"Don't you think _I_ should have been Persephone and _you_ should have been Hades?" Sarah asked as she and Jareth climbed the stairs to the lavish ballroom of Quirinal Palace.

"How unprogressive of you, Sarah," Jareth retorted. "You really should rethink your antiquated view of gender norms."

Sarah sighed and shook her head. She had to admit, they looked incredible. Jareth was decked out in an ivory velvet coat with gold stitching. Beneath his coat he wore a crushed velvet vest elaborately embroidered with pastel flowers and twisting gold vines. His body-hugging breeches matched his coat and he was shod in a pair of exquisite Italian blonde leather boots. A gold mask adorned with floral swirls and metallic leaves completed his ensemble. He looked every bit the part of the virginal Persephone.

"Except I know better," thought Sarah.

She was no less impressive in her personification of Hades. Jareth had chosen a gown of rich red satin overlaid with sheer black filigree lace. The fitted bodice was draped over with black satin that skimmed her shoulders and hung in a deep U just above the small of her back. The front of the dress hugged and lifted the curves of her breasts, putting quite an expanse of milky white cleavage on display. Her dark hair was pinned up in a loose _chignon_ and held in place by a ruby-encrusted clasp.

Sarah's mask was far more elaborate than Jareth's. It consisted of stiffened black lace haloed with blood-red roses. Delicate but devilish black horns twisted upward from the sides of the mask.

Jareth gazed at her appreciatively. She was breathtakingly terrifying and undeniably sexy.

He took her arm as they passed through the festooned entryway and stepped into the exquisite ballroom. Enormous chandeliers dripping with crystals hung from the frescoed ceiling. In one corner, a small ensemble of musicians were playing stringed instruments while beautifully costumed dancers spun gaily across the marble floor. At the far end of the room, tables were heaped with an assortment of delicacies, pastries and bottles of fine wine.

"I know this is a trap," Sarah whispered to her companion, "but it's the most luxurious trap I've ever seen."

The Goblin King chuckled. "Emerson's quote not only applies to the Mundane realm, Sarah. The Fae are always looking to outdo one another with more and more elaborate and convoluted snares."

"I don't enjoy being characterized as a mouse," began Sarah, "but looking around, it's hard not to appreciate the effort."

Jareth laughed out loud and led them over to the wine table where he poured them both a healthy glass.

"Here's to gilded traps and exquisitely beautiful mice," he said, raising his glass. Sarah touched her wine glass to his with a smile.

"Ah, Your Majesty," crooned a smooth voice from behind them. Jareth and Sarah turned and saw an olive-skinned man with pitch black hair and Hollywood-white teeth. He wore a silvery cloak covered in eagle's feathers with a cardinal red vest beneath it. His mask was a silver eagle's head with upswept wings above his ears and a curved beak over his nose. The man and Jareth exchanged polite bows before he turned to Sarah.

"This enchanting creature must be the famous Sarah," he said, taking her hand and placing a delicate kiss upon it that made her skin tingle.

He looked up at her and smiled brightly and Sarah could see that his eyes were deep chocolate brown with flecks of amber.

"I am Romulus."

* * *

Squashblossom had spotted the raven above the mountains when she crept out to survey the land. Crouching in the camouflage of the brown brush, she watched the evil bird swoop and swirl in a mystic dance over the Underground.

"What is she doing?" she asked aloud.

"It's a spell," answered Laurel who had crept up unseen, startling the little dwarf.

"Geez!" she cried. "Don't sneak up on me like that."

"Sorry," Laurel replied sheepishly. "I saw you leave the camp and thought I should follow. It's dangerous to be out here alone."

"I know this place like I know the back of my hand," Squashblossom replied indignantly. "My husband tends this garden and he…" She stopped, unable to go on. She couldn't imagine what was happening to her beloved in the castle. Perhaps he was being tortured, Perhaps he had already… She shook the thought away. He and Sir Didymus were alive. They must be. But she and the others had to hurry. There was an army approaching from the south and the awful slime was gaining ground to the north and now the Morrigan was flitting about the midst of it all, obviously up to no good.

"What kind of spell is that horrid bitch casting now?" she asked Laurel.

Laurel was silent, hesitant to tell the dwarf what her second-sight had allowed her to witness. She could see the invisible threads tightening around the Underground, threatening to cut it off from the rest of the Otherrealm. She could feel the void closing in around it, isolating them all from any aid or means of escape. She looked back at the dwarf who was still waiting on an answer.

"Squashblossom, I'm afraid the situation is very dire. If something is not done soon, this realm will be lost to the void and swallowed up by the evil magic."

Squashblossom tried to swallow the lump in her throat. She looked up at the raven who continued to dart back and forth over her head.

"Where are you, Sarah?" she thought frantically. "Please! You and His Majesty must hurry!"

* * *

"It's been far too long, Jareth," said Romulus as he took Sarah by the arm and led her and Jareth to his elaborately bedecked table. "Why do you no longer visit Rome?"

"I've been otherwise occupied," Jareth answered with a grunt.

Romulus looked Sarah up and down, his eyes lingering on her ample bosom. "I'll bet you have," he grinned.

Sarah flushed bright red and flashed a warning look to Jareth. He nodded as he took a seat and addressed their host.

"You mentioned in the invitation that you have something we might find interesting," he began. "I am prepared to barter, provided it's worth my time."

Romulus laughed, showing his pearly teeth. "Oh Jareth," he said. "You're at a party and are only concerned with business? You _have_ changed. Has this mortal little minx finally domesticated you?"

Jareth's face showed his growing impatience. "I have little time to trifle with you, Romulus. If you don't have anything worth discussing, I _and_ Sarah will be going." He stood up and motioned for Sarah and Romulus rolled his eyes.

"Oh sit back down, you dramatic diva," he said sarcastically. "I have something of great value and importance to you. Of course, if you expect me to part with it, I'll have to demand a hefty price."

Jareth leaned forward to Romulus. "Show me first and then we will discuss price."

"In time, my friend," he said as he stood. "First, I would like to take a turn about the floor with the enticing Sarah." He offered her his hand and she took it, rising from her seat and following him to the dance floor.

Jareth watched from the table as Romulus swept Sarah into a waltz. His eyes followed them around the room, narrowing to slits when Romulus' hand moved from Sarah's waist to her hip, then to her naked back. She appeared not to mind, smiling and carrying on a lively conversation with the handsome Italian. The waltz ended, but Sarah and Romulus remained on the floor as the instruments began to play a slow ballad. Jareth's fists clenched as the charming host wrapped his arms around Sarah and drew her into his chest. He had a sudden, desperate need for a cigarette.

On the floor, Sarah watched the ever-deepening discomfort of the Goblin King from the corner of her eye. His jaw clenched tight when Romulus splayed his hand across the bare skin of her back and drew her in for the slow dance. Was he jealous? Though she never would have admitted it, even to herself, the thought aroused and emboldened her.

"How about this, Your Majesty?" she thought wickedly as she pressed her body against Romulus and laid her head on his chest. She looked back at the table, but Jareth was gone.

A firm finger tapped Romulus on the shoulder and he released Sarah with a start. Jareth stood before them, his expression cold and unreadable.

"You've had your dance, Romulus," he said. "Now show me what I came for."

* * *

Lumbering as carefully as he could by the edge of the encroaching slime, the Wise Man surveyed the damage. For miles to the north, there was nothing visible, only inky black nothingness. He shook his huge head sadly. Such a pity. The land had come so far under Jareth's care. It had blossomed to vibrant life again after decades as a wasteland. If a solution could not be found soon, it would less than a wasteland. It would cease to exist.

"Uh-oh," crowed his hat. "The bitch is back."

The Wise Man looked up at the horizon and saw the unmistakable shape of the Morrigan's raven form. He watched her weave an evil enchantment over his head and knew that there was little hope of the king returning in time to save them.

"Oh, dear boy," he said sadly. "I'm so sorry."

"What?" asked the hat. "What are you sorry for? It's that old hag's fault!"

"Quiet!" bellowed the Wise Man.

"Oh pssh," the hat squawked. "I'm not afraid of her." Leaning back as far as if could from the old man's head, it shouted at the sky.

"Hear that? I'm not afraid of you, you disgusting feathered pest! You give birds a bad name!"

Far above, the raven paused in her flight and looked down at where the Wise Man stood. The hat hurled insults up at her, chuckling to itself and the old man over its cleverness. Rankled, the raven focused in on the insolent hat, swooping down out of the sky and swiping it off the old man's head.

"Hey!" cried the hat. "Put me down, you bitchy buzzard!"

The raven looked down at the hat in her talons. "Very well," she said.

The hat screeched as the raven flew out over the sea of putrid sludge. "No no!" it screamed. "Not there! I'm sorry. I was only joking. The old man will tell you, I joke all the time. Please! Please! Don't drop meeee!"

The hat yelled the last word as the raven released it from her talons and dropped it into the dark mire. The Wise Man watched in horror as the hat bobbed atop the muck, squawking and screaming for a few seconds before slick tendrils of slime shot up and wrapped around its throat and dragged it down into the sticky depths.

* * *

"This, my friends, is the Vasella Room," said Romulus as he led them into the brightly lit room. Jareth and Sarah surveyed their surroundings. The walls were lined with rows of ornate mahogany cabinets that were lighted from the inside and filled with an array of porcelain dishes, silver servingware, and crystal goblets and glasses.

"This collection," Romulus continued, "is one of the most splendid in Italy, perhaps in all of Europe. We have nearly forty thousand separate pieces housed here. However, I know that you, Jareth, are hardly interested in a bunch of old plates. Perhaps a vessel of a different kind, or at least a piece of it?"

A quirk of Jareth's eyebrow betrayed his feigned indifference and Romulus smiled. "Come this way then, my friends," he said, leading them over to a row of cabinets in the center of the room. He took out a small key and opened one of the glass cabinet doors to allow them a better view of the treasures inside. Dozens of gold pieces winked and sparkled in the bright lights. Reaching into the back recesses of the cabinet, Romulus withdrew a small shining object. He held up the fragment of the _Anima vasa_ for them to see.

"Is this what you have been looking for?" asked Romulus with a wide, toothy grin.

"May I examine it?" asked Jareth, extending a hand. Romulus hesitated, but finally placed the small fragment into the hand of the Goblin King. Jareth studied it closely, feeling the weight and warmth of it in his hand, its magic dancing across his fingertips. It was genuine.

"Well now," stated Romulus. "You can see that it is authentic. It came here via Pope Clement VIII, a result of that nasty business with the Ottoman Empire. Spoils of war, I suppose. Now, how much are you willing to pay?" He held out his hand and Jareth passed the object once more over his fingers before dropping it back into the waiting hand of their illustrious host. Romulus placed it in its cabinet and locked it, depositing the key into his pocket.

"What is your asking price?"

Romulus thought for a moment. "I'm not really sure that you currently possess what it's worth," he began. "But perhaps I am willing to make a bargain."

"I'm listening," Jareth replied.

Romulus looked at Sarah and smirked. "Your mortal here is most interesting," he purred. He leaned in close and sniffed her. "You've not marked her. I find rather surprising of you, Goblin King. She really is quite... delectable."

"Um, hello? I'm right here," Sarah spat.

The two males ignored her comment and continued their conversation.

"Are you suggesting a trade of your piece for the company of _my_ mortal?" Jareth asked.

"Hey!" cried Sarah. "I am not yours…"

"Is there a problem with that, Goblin King?" questioned Romulus.

"Not really," Jareth answered, "I just wouldn't want to cheat you."

" _Excuse_ me?" Sarah fumed.

Romulus laughed. "Cheat me? Oh, I hardly think so." He leered at Sarah and she gave him a dirty look in exchange.

Jareth shrugged. "Don't get me wrong," he told the other man. "She's quite nice to look at, but hardly useful. She's more… ornamental."

Sarah was too furious to speak. "If he weren't immortal, I would kill him!" she thought angrily.

"She bested you, didn't she?" Romulus countered. "I think that's worth something. Come on, Jareth. I'm being quite generous. I have had other offers, you know."

"Oh, I'm certain of it," Jareth answered, changing tactics. "But I know you, Romulus. What you have is dangerous, as I am sure you are aware. I'm really doing you a favor by taking it off your hands."

"Likewise, Goblin King," Romulus said, regarding Sarah lustfully.

"Ah, _punto fatto,_ " Jareth chuckled, gesturing with his hands. "Let me have a moment to think it over, _va bene?"_

 _"Si, naturalmente_ " replied the host, giving a little bow. "Shall we rejoin the festivities?"

Sarah remained sullenly silent as she and Jareth left the Vasella Room and returned to the boisterous ballroom, followed closely by Romulus. She moved toward the host's table, but Jareth caught her by the arm and pulled her back.

"Dance with me, Sarah," he said. It wasn't a request. Sarah pulled back from him initially, but then decided to use the opportunity to give the inglorious Goblin King a piece of her mind.

"You dirty, underhanded bastard," she hissed as Jareth spun her across the dance floor. "You can't be serious. You can't actually be considering trading me to Romulus for his piece of the _Anima vasa._ "

She was fuming, her green eyes flashing beneath her devilish mask and her luscious mouth curled into a vicious snarl. It made Jareth's body hum with desire.

"Why are you so upset, Sarah?" he purred. "You seemed to rather enjoy his company when you were dancing."

"I was playing the part, Jareth!" Sarah insisted. "You know, flirting with him until we could get what we want. Like you did with Ian at the museum."

The Goblin King rolled his eyes. "Ah," he groaned. "Going to bring that up, are we? Jealousy doesn't suit you, my dear."

"You're one to talk, Your Majesty. I saw the way you were watching us. You looked like you wanted to strangle Romulus with your bare hands."

Jareth gripped her waist and yanked her in close. "And what if I did, Sarah?" he asked, his lips mere inches from hers. She didn't say anything, just stared at him, eyes wide and mouth agape.

He released his grip on her waist, but grabbed her hand and led her away from the swirling crowd. Sarah wordlessly followed him down the hall and into a quiet, dimly-lit room lined with intricately carved wooden bookshelves. Jareth closed the door behind them and leaned against it with his arms crossed over his chest.

"I won't go with him," Sarah said simply. "I don't care if you and your whole fucking castle sink into the Bog. I am not a piece of property for you to trade away for ancient relics, powerful or not!"

"Oh Sarah, do shut up."

Sarah glared at him, beyond agitated. Her agitation turned to bewilderment as Jareth reached into the pocket of his embroidered vest and withdrew the final shining piece of the _Anima vasa._

"But… how?" Sarah asked. "I saw you give it back to Romulus. You didn't risk _magicking_ it away, did you?"

"No magic was needed, only fine Italian craftsmanship coupled with some sleight of hand." Jareth chuckled. "I switched this with a fake piece. It's a near-perfect duplicate, drawn from memory and recreated by a master goldsmith."

Sarah stared at the piece in his hand then back at Jareth, the realization of what he had done finally dawning clearly.

"Then, if you had that the whole time… you never intended to trade me to Romulus at all, did you?"

Jareth moved toward her, staring at her intently. Sarah tried to back away, but found herself wedged between him and one of the ornate bookshelves. She held her breath as he leaned in.

"Oh Sarah," he whispered. "Do you honestly think I would do that? Do you honestly think that I _could_?"

He gave her no time to answer, crushing his mouth violently against hers and kissing her deeply. Sarah's mind whirled, wanting to struggle against him but at the same time wishing to do nothing but dissolve into the breathless kiss. She opted for the latter, letting her body go slack against him even as her mouth moved feverishly against his. A groan escaped his lips between burning kisses as her arms went around his neck and her fingers raked through his feathery hair.

"Gods Sarah," he moaned against her ear, sending a jolt of electricity down her spine. He peppered a trail of wet kisses down her neck and over her bare collarbone. When his mouth skimmed the crest of one of her breasts, Sarah tried to steady herself against the shelf behind her, but ended up sending a stack of antique books cascading to the library floor.

Ignoring her fumbling, the Goblin King removed first his mask, then hers, dropping them gracelessly to the floor. He leaned his body forward, pressing her flat against the shelf before uncoiling her arms from around his neck and holding them together above her head with one hand.

"Jareth," Sarah began but he hushed her.

"We're in a library dear," he said placing a finger over her swollen lips. "Haven't you always wanted to be fucked in a library?"

In truth, she had thought of it. While Sarah hardly considered herself an exhibitionist, she found there was something deliciously taboo about dreaming of being taken roughly against the stacks.

Noting her lustful haze, Jareth smiled knowingly and removed his gloves before reaching down to grasp her billowing skirt. Sarah's heart thundered in her chest as his hand slipped beneath the hem of her dark dress and up her leg. He gave an appreciative murmur as his fingers trailed over the smooth skin of her thighs and into the trembling space between. Pushing aside the small scrap of lace that served as her underwear, he buried his fingers in her warm tangle of coarse hair.

Sarah moaned and ground her sex against his cupped hand. "Please," she whispered. "Please touch me,"

Jareth willingly obliged, stroking a tapered finger over her now slick folds. Sarah's body went limp against his as he caressed and teased her with his fingers. He kissed her lips even as he dipped a finger inside her and her whole body shuddered. Her reaction undid him. He released her arms and hiked one of her long legs over his outer thigh, bringing her as close to his body as he could.

A cough from the doorway interrupted his fumbling with the fastenings of his breeches. He paused and turned as the unwanted visitor spoke.

"Pardon the intrusion, but I think you have something that belongs to me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title is a little nod to the song "Masquerade" from "The Phantom of the Opera" I thought it appropriate considering the lyrics:
> 
> Masquerade! Paper faces on parade
> 
> Hide your face so the world will never find you
> 
> RIP Sassy Hat


	15. Down the Water Clock

"Pardon the intrusion," said Romulus, "But I think you have something that belongs to me."

Jareth and Sarah turned toward the door where the Italian stood gazing at them intently with his arms folded over his chest. He had removed his mask and Sarah could finally see the clear details of his face. He was strikingly handsome, with deep set eyes and high swept cheekbones, but at the moment his features were drawn into a fierce scowl.

Romulus regarded them seriously, noting Sarah's flushed face and swollen lips and Jareth's burgeoning erection. Flustered by his gaze, Sarah sputtered incoherently and clumsily pushed her skirt down and pulled the bodice of her dress up. Jareth, however, remained unruffled. He merely smiled at Romulus.

"My dear friend," he said coolly, "There has not yet been an exchange of goods, so for the moment Sarah is still _mine._ "

Romulus' scowl deepened. "That's not what I was referring to and you know it, Goblin King. And there has indeed been an exchange." He uncrossed his arms and held out his hand for them to see the forged piece of the _Anima vasa_ in his palm. "Did you really think I wouldn't be able to tell that this was a fake?"

Jareth smiled. "I hoped you wouldn't," he admitted lightly. Quirking an arched eyebrow, he leaned in toward their host. "What gave it away?"

Romulus was not amused. "Unlike you, Jareth, I make it a habit to mark my possessions."

Sarah leaned back against the library wall and studied the room, looking for an avenue of escape. Romulus was blocking the only visible doorway and unless one of the bookshelves opened up like something out of an old murder mystery movie, they were trapped.

"Yes well, I thought that was a bit too easy," Jareth said, pretending to study his nails. "I would be rather interested in learning how you so quickly discovered the counterfeit."

" _Uffa_ ," grunted Romulus. "Do you really expect me to tell you how to do a better forgery?"

"No, of course not," grinned the Goblin King. "I just thought you might get a rise out of pointing out my mistakes. Come on, humor me."

Romulus was silent for a moment before a slight smile broke over his face and the mood in the room shifted. "Very well, my friend," he said. "I'll show you a _few_ of the things you slipped up on."

He led Jareth over to a table and the two men laid their pieces side by side to compare.

"Sarah dear," Jareth said, turning slightly toward her. "Make yourself useful and put on that lamp so we can see a bit better." He motioned toward a heavy wooden table lamp on the desk near where she stood. Something else passed over his face at that moment, something barely readable, but looking at the lamp and back at him, Sarah suddenly understood.

"Your forgery was quite impressive, Jareth, considering it was likely done from memory," began Romulus as he leaned over the table where the two pieces lay. "Unfortunately, your memory seems to have dulled with time and you left out a few important details."

"Such as?" asked Jareth.

"Such as this character here has two curls, not three," answered Romulus, pointing to the worn ancient lettering on the fragment's edge. "And this halfmoon is-"

Romulus pitched forward as Sarah hit him on the back of the head with the lamp. He fell in a heap onto the library floor and lay still. Swiping the gold pieces from the table, Jareth grabbed Sarah by the hand and they stepped over the fallen host and ran toward the door. The music from the ball was still flowing loudly from the ballroom down the hall and revelers mingled in the hallway and on the stairs.

"Act as if nothing were out of the ordinary," Jareth muttered as they passed through the bright hall, smiling and greeting the costumed guests. Down the hall, the library door opened and Romulus staggered out, holding a hand to the back of his head.

" _Catturali!_ " he cried.

"Fuck," cursed Sarah. "Run!" They took off in a sprint down the long corridor and the palace guards, summoned by Romulus' screaming, gave chase.

"Where are we going?" panted Sarah as she ran.

"To find the back entrance," answered Jareth. "Here," he said, opening a large white door and pulling Sarah inside. He closed the door behind them and moved to examine the mirrors lining the walls. "Every palace worth its salt has a secret entrance," he explained. He ran his hands over the top and sides of one of the mirrors but didn't seem to find what he was looking for and moved to the next.

"For getting the king and queen out quickly in case of a siege or invasion?" Sarah asked.

Jareth shook his head, feeling around the next mirror. "No, he answered. "For sneaking lovers in and out."

"Right," Sarah breathed.

"Ah!" cried the Goblin King in triumph. He pressed down on the tiny hidden switch and the mirror opened, revealing a dark stone stairway leading downward. "After you, Sarah," he said.

Sarah could hear the palace guards in the corridor and rushed to the open passageway. Jareth followed closely behind her, pulling the door closed behind them just as the guards entered the Hall of Mirrors.

The steps led down to another long hall and then to a set of spiraling stairs followed by yet another corridor. Each hall was darker and mustier than the last, damp and moldy with disuse.

"Does your castle have a secret entrance like this?" Sarah asked as they hurried down the dank passageway.

Jareth glanced at her sideways but didn't answer. They finally reached the end of the corridor and pushed open the heavy wooden door to the outside. Bright moonlight flooded the piazza, offering little cover for their flight.

"This way," said Jareth. Sarah allowed him to take her hand and lead her along the shadowy inset of the building toward the outer gate of the Quirinal complex. Alarms sounded in the distance and Jareth quickened his steps toward the gate, dragging Sarah along behind him.

"Hurry!" he ordered.

"With all due respect, Your Majesty, I am running as fast as I can in a ballgown and heels," Sarah shot back.

Jareth sighed. Sarah was right. It was futile to keep going on foot. He looked around for another option and spotted a row of sleek motorcycles just as the cry of alarm sounded from the watchtower atop the palace. They had been spotted.

Releasing Sarah's hand, Jareth examined the motorcycles, hurriedly opening compartments and rifling through sidecases before coming up with a spare ignition key.

"Hop on, Sarah," he said swinging one lean leg over the bike.

"Jareth…" Sarah pointed to her dress. "Ballgown?"

Jareth rolled his eyes and without stepping off the motorcycle leaned down and with a loud rip tore Sarah's skirt around the bottom from the hem to her knees. He had to smile a little at the sight of her shapely bare legs and her feet shod in exquisitely sexy black Italian heels. Sarah ignored his leering and carefully maneuvered onto the bike behind him.

The engine roared to life, echoing down the narrow cobbled street. Jareth peeled out in a cloud of exhaust and sped out into the night. Behind him, flashing lights announced the arrival of the _Carabinieri_ , the military police force. Sarah glanced behind them as a parade of black Alfa Romeos advanced on them.

A voice called out over a loudspeaker from one of the cars. Sarah couldn't understand the Italian but supposed it went along the lines of, "Stop, you are under arrest."

She held tight to Jareth as he gunned the engine and swerved sharply into a narrow, winding street. A few of the police cars missed the turn and drove past, but several followed, rumbling after them up the one-lane road. Jareth turned again, this time whizzing down a side alley between buildings. There was barely enough room for the bike, let alone the _Carabinieri_. The police cars screeched to a halt at the entrance to the alley and black-clad officers spilled out, fanning out in all directions and barking orders into their radios.

Jareth continued to speed North, darting in and out of alleys and narrow passages until the sound of sirens faded and the crowded city gave way to broad piazzas and green spaces. He and Sarah abandoned the motorcycle under the obelisk at the center of the Piazza del Popolo and continued uphill on foot. They could hear the wail of sirens below them as the _Carabinieri_ surrounded the abandoned motorcycle and the officers began searching the wide piazza.

"Where are we going?" Sarah asked breathlessly and they crested a hill and stepped into what appeared to be a well-manicured park. Paved pathways wound through clusters of trees and past lily-covered ponds.

"Away from Rome," Jareth answered simply. He stepped quickly off the path and toward an area behind an iron gate. He easily climbed over the barrier and then carefully lifted Sarah over. She looked around the area, confused. In the moonlight, she could make out a rickety wooden bridge stretching over to an island in the center of a small pond. Atop the island stood a beautiful large clock that appeared to be made of tree trunks.

"What is this place?" Sarah asked in awe.

Jareth stepped lightly onto the creaking bridge and held out his hand to Sarah. "This is an entrance underground, to the catacombs."

Sarah pulled back her outstretched hand. "Aren't the catacombs extremely dangerous?"

"It's true that, without a guide, one is liable to hopelessly wander the passages forever," Jareth told her. "But you have an excellent guide, my dear. Besides, at present our choices are severely limited." He offered her his hand again and she took it, carefully stepping onto the precarious bridge.

Jareth led the way over to the moss-covered island and the towering clock. Sliding back a hidden panel, he gently put a hand to the water-driven mechanism inside. With a groan, the floor slid open revealing a passage downward below the island and the pond. Jareth went first this time, cautiously gripping the slick walls as he descended down into the black depths. Sarah followed blindly, swatting at cobwebs and trying not to fall on the mossy stairs. The bottom of the steps opened into a narrow cavern where a cold wind whipped around them, rattling through Sarah's thin, ruined dress and making her teeth chatter. Jareth removed his jacket and placed it over her shoulders.

"How are we supposed to find our way down here, Jareth?" Sarah asked. "It's pitch black."

"Let your eyes adjust for a moment, Sarah."

She did so, blinking as vague shadowy shapes grew along the walls, sharpening as her pupils dilated. The oppressive darkness gave way to patches of blue-green light, glowing from the walls and floor. Sarah gasped as the fox-fire glow brightened, lighting the way down the dark passage. She turned to Jareth, surprised to see a faraway look of relief on his face.

"Jareth, where does this lead?"

"Home," he answered.

* * *

Laurel pulled Squashblossom away from the open plain and back toward the cover of the brush.

"It's dangerous to remain out here," she told the dwarf. "Besides, we must go tell the others what we've seen."

"Just what did you see?" Squashblossom asked, putting her grubby hands on her hips.

Laurel sighed. "The Morrigan weaves a spell over the veil of this realm," she explained. "It tightens with every moment like a fowler's snare. Soon it will close around the Underground, trapping all who remain here in and keeping out all who might come to our aid."

"Oh dear," whispered Squashblossom. "If help don't come soon, we're doomed!"

"That's why we have to get back to the others and send word Above for the rest of His Majesty's allies to hurry. We can try to keep the Morrigan's forces at bay and buy some time for Jareth and Sarah, but if the veil closes before our allies arrive, all is lost."

"Well, c'mon then," Squashblossom cried. She yanked Laurel up the path toward the camp, but froze mid-step as two armed soldiers stepped out of the shadowed trees and stood in their way.

"What do we have here?" asked one of the soldiers, leaning in with an evil smirk.

"Looks like a couple of spies," said his companion.

"We ain't spies," retorted Squashblossom. She crossed her arms over her chest. "I'm just a dwarf."

The soldier waved her off and turned his attention to Laurel, circling her predatorily.

"And what of you?" he asked. "You're not a dwarf." He leaned close to her and sniffed. "But you reek of goblin."

"I am no one," Laurel answered, struggling to keep her voice steady. "Merely a visitor, the same as you."

The soldier narrowed his eyes at her. "Don't play games with me," he spat. "We've been tracking your movements and we know the two of you are part of the bumbling band here to give aid to the King of the Goblins."

"You will tell us where he is, this instant or face the punishment of the High Council," added the other soldier.

"I am not a subject of the High Council," sneered Laurel. "They have no authority over me and I will tell you nothing."

"We'll just see what Torin has to say about that," replied the soldier. He grabbed Laurel roughly and tied her hands behind her back and his companion did the same with Squashblossom.

"Let us go, you big Bog-rats," the dwarf cursed.

"Be quiet or I'll drop your friend here into that festering slime," the soldier rounded on her, pointing to the north where the sludge was inching closer and closer to the Goblin City. Slick vines of muck were already twisting up over the outer gate and up the thick legs of Humongous, the robot guard.

Squashblossom fell silent as the soldiers led them over the plain toward the camp of the Morrigan's army.

* * *

"Jareth, can we stop? My feet are killing me," Sarah paused to lean against the wall and removed one shoe.

The Goblin King huffed. "There's no time to deal with your mortal aches and pains, Sarah. We must keep moving." He reached for her hand but she shrugged away from his grasp.

"You have all the pieces to the _Anima vasa,_ Jareth," Sarah argued. "Why don't you use it now?"

"I don't dare until we're in the safety of the Underground," he answered.

"Why not?"

"That kind of power is far too volatile to be wielded without great care, Sarah."

"Is that why you won't give me the final piece?"

"Partly, yes."

"Partly?"

Jareth closed his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. "If anything should… happen," he began, "having the pieces shared between us will ensure we are not separated."

"So we're still in danger," Sarah stated.

"Yes," answered Jareth.

"And if we get captured or something, we're more likely to be kept together if we're both carrying extremely volatile pieces of an ancient magical relic."

"That is correct. May we please continue now?"

Sarah put her shoe back on her foot and followed the Goblin King as he made his way down the endless tunnel, bathed in the blue-green glow of the fox-fire.

"You don't know what the _Anima vasa_ really does, do you?" she asked.

"I know what it does," Jareth said without turning around. "I just don't know what will _happen_ when it does what it does."

"But you're certain it can save the Goblin Kingdom."

This time Jareth did stop and turn around. "I am not certain of anything anymore, Sarah," he wearily admitted. "I only know that the _Anima vasa_ is the best chance I have. If the Goblin Kingdom disappears, I vanish along with it. I'm inextricably tied to it, thanks to y- the sorceress," he corrected.

"Who was she?" asked Sarah.

Jareth turned away and moved back down the corridor. "Don't worry," he said with a tinge of sadness to his voice. "I think you'll meet her soon enough."

* * *

In the castle throne room, Ludo watched from the window as night crept over the Labyrinth. Below, at the gate of the Goblin City, the hulking metal guard sank with a loud squish into the sucking sludge.

"Bye, Humongous," Ludo purred sadly.

Far at the other end of the kingdom he could see the glint of metal armor around orange firelight. The armies of the Morrigan had gathered en masse just outside the Dark Forest in preparation for their siege of the Goblin Castle.

Ludo was turning away from the window when a slight movement caught his eye. Turning back, he gazed hard into the distance. There! He saw it on the edges of the Labyrinth. Another cluster of creatures was picking its way toward the castle. But who? They weren't clad in armor, so they couldn't be more of the Morrigan's soldiers. Ludo peered harder into the dark, growing excited.

"What are you howling about?" grumbled Hoggle, noticing Ludo's enthusiastic bellowing.

"Friends!" cried Ludo.

"Friends?" asked the dwarf.

"Hath His Majesty returned?" asked Sir Didymus.

Ludo shook his giant head and smiled wide. "No, friends!" He pointed toward the Labyrinth, but it was too far for Hoggle and Sir Didymus to see the gathering band of Jareth's allies quickly trickling in from Above.

* * *

Squashblossom struggled against her restraints as she waited in Torin's tent. She knew what was coming. As much as she feared to even imagine what kinds of torture she would be subjected to, she was grateful that it was her and not Hoggle who was placed in that position. She sighed. She loved her husband, but knew the little scab would have spilled his guts if the soldiers so much as looked at him cross-eyed. It was a glaring flaw, one that she had decided very early on to ignore. Hoggle was no hero, but he had always tried to be brave when it really mattered and he had always been loyal to her. That was more than enough.

The flap of the general's tent opened and a soldier entered followed by a limping Laurel. Her mouth was split and bleeding and there were tear-streaks down her cheeks, but she set her jaw and defiantly sat down next to the dwarf.

"I didn't tell them anything," she said.

Squashblossom wanted to pat the girl's arm and comfort her, but her hands were still bound behind her back. She looked up at the guard who was staring at her with a wicked grin on his face.

"You're next," he said.

* * *

From his vantage point on the hill, Jareth had a clear view of both the soldiers' camp to the South and the thickening mire slinking in from the North. The outer gate of the Goblin City was gone along with the robot guard and the bottom half of the metal door. They had vanished beneath the evil blackness, lost to the void.

The Goblin King was almost certain their arrival had not gone unnoticed. It would be very unlike the goddess to not have placed wards around the border of the Underground, alerting her of his return. However, he and Sarah had not been able to afford delaying crossing the border into the Goblin Realm. Even with his magic damped he could see the tightening threads around his kingdom and knew the Morrigan was cutting the Underground off as she had promised. He and Sarah had hurried through the veil and now stood surveying the scene just beyond the western edge of the Labyrinth.

"This is bad, isn't it?" Sarah asked, taking in the sight of the winking campfires and glistening sludge.

Jareth grunted in reply.

Sarah pulled her pieces of the _Anime vasa_ out of their hiding places in her dress and held them out to him. "I guess you'll want these now."

Jareth backed away with his arms outstretched. "No," he growled. "Put those away."

"I don't understand you, Jareth!" Sarah exclaimed as she dumped the fragments back into her dress. "You've been so set on getting this thing and saving your kingdom and now you're hesitating? What gives?"

"You need to rest," he told her, turning away.

"What are you not telling me, Jareth?" Sarah demanded.

He stopped in his tracks and whirled around. "I'm telling you that you need to rest," he said coldly. "Tomorrow everything changes and I need to know that I can count on your strength, Sarah."

Sarah was silent for a moment, watching him. "You need me," she said at last.

Jareth nodded. "More than you know."

"All right," Sarah agreed. "I've gone this far with you and I'll see it through. I still don't know what any of this means, but I know my friends are out there and they're in danger. I won't fight you for answers, Jareth. I just want to know that you believe this thing will save them. Do you?"

"Yes," he answered quietly. "Yes, I believe so."

Sarah took his hand and they silently returned to the cover of the Western Woods where an abandoned cottage stood in a clearing between a steep hill and small stream. The pair pushed their way inside and looked around. The humble dwelling had not been used in some time, but it was secluded and relatively safe from the Morrigan's prying gaze. Sarah laid aside Jareth's jacket and began removing the coverings from the furniture in the small space: a ragged, but comfortable-looking chair, a small table, a chest of drawers and a rather narrow bed.

The Goblin King watched her as she moved about the room, appreciating the tapered legs visible beneath her tattered skirt and the swell of her breasts beneath the tight bodice. She had felt so good pressed up against him in the library. He had wanted her so badly and he knew she'd wanted him too.

"Fucking Romulus," he cursed to himself.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" she asked him when she noticed his wolfish gaze.

"Like what?"

"Like you want to eat me alive."

Jareth smiled wickedly. "Perhaps I do," he purred.

"What happened to 'Sarah, you need to rest'?" Sarah asked sarcastically.

"Oh, by all means, get into bed."

"Oh for fuck's sake, Jareth!" Sarah cried. "I really don't have patience for your ridiculous mood swings. One minute you're cold, the next minute you're charming. One minute you seem to barely be able to stand my company, the next you've got your tongue down my throat… I don't know what to think or feel when I'm around you." She paused and glared at him before gushing on. "You ask me to trust you and then you lie and keep me in the dark and talk in riddles. Just give me some straight answers. Just for once. Tell me something that isn't false or shrouded in double-talk or innuendo."

"I want you," Jareth said simply. She stared at him, unblinking.

"What?"

"You asked for a simple truth. There it is. I. Want. You." He stepped toward her slowly.

"You mean like _want_ want?" Sarah asked, uncertain she'd heard correctly.

"Surely you know my feelings by now, Sarah," he said.

"Your feelings?"

"Yes. Did I not make them clear in the library at Quirinal Palace?" He took another step.

Sarah swallowed hard, thinking of their heated interlude in the palace library. Her face flushed crimson at the memory of where Jareth's hands had been.

"I thought that was just bravado or jealousy," she told him.

He scoffed. "While I might have been initially jealous of your interactions with that simpering fool Romulus, your reaction when you were in my arms up against the bookshelves told me everything I needed to know of how you feel about me."

He took another slow step toward her, stalking her.

"We started something, Sarah," he said. "Something I would very much like to finish."

In a breath, he was at her side, but rather than crushing her forcefully against him, he leaned in lightly and kissed the shell of her ear before whispering into it.

"Do you want me, Sarah?" his voice was dark and lusty.

"Yes," she answered with a shiver.

"Tell me," he insisted.

"I want you," she whispered back, huskily.

He kissed her mouth.

"Show me."

Taking a small step back, Sarah reached up and pulled the satin straps of her tattered dress off her shoulders. The dark dress skimmed lightly off her body and landed in a puddle at her feet. She stood before the Goblin King in only her lacy thong and her Italian heels.

He moved toward her but she stopped him, raising a hand to his chest. "On no you don't," she told him. "Off with the clothes, Your Majesty."

He replied with only a smile before unbuttoning his embroidered vest. He tossed it onto the chair beside him and then reached for the hem of his creamy silken shirt. Sarah watched as he pulled it gracefully over his head and stood in front of her bare-chested, save for the horned medallion that hung over his breast. He reached for her again but she backed away.

"And the rest" she told him, pointing to his breeches.

"Ahem," he coughed and nodded toward her black lace thong.

While he slipped off his boots and breeches, Sarah wriggled out of her thong and reached down to remove her heels.

"Sarah dear," Jareth cooed. "Please leave _those_ on."

She straightened and turned to him, taking in the full view of his body. He was beautiful. As if cut from polished marble by Michelangelo himself. His skin was almost snowy white and overlaid with the finest covering of golden hair. His arms and legs were lean, but lightly muscled as was his pale chest. The brief glimpse of his nether-regions that she'd had in Ireland had not done him justice. While his hungover, flaccid state had been nonetheless impressive, the sight of him full and erect was enough to make Sarah's knees tremble.

He smiled at her obvious appreciation.

"Sarah," he said after a few more moments of her staring. "While I'm flattered by your gawking, I would really like to fuck you now."

"Oh god, yes," Sarah sighed.

Moving swiftly, but with careful grace, Jareth swept her up into his arms and carried her to the bed. He laid her down on the sagging mattress and covered her body with his own. Sarah's arms went around his shoulders, drawing his mouth down to hers. He kissed her softly at first, then deeper, more insistent. His tongue brushed hers and he felt her body rise against his.

His mouth left her lips and traveled down her neck to the hollow of her throat. He lingered there, feeling the rapid quickening of her pulse before lavishing attention upon her breasts. Sarah moaned with pleasure and raked her fingers through his hair as his lips brushed over her nipples, tugging at them slightly. Jareth kissed a trail down her velvety belly to her navel before pressing his mouth into the apex of her thighs. Her nails dug into his skull and her hips ground against him as lapped at her, tasting her.

Sarah gripped his shoulders and tugged at him, pulling him back up to face her. Her eyes were dark, almost black with desire.

"Please, Jareth," she begged. "I need you now. All of you. Inside me."

With a little growl, he arched forward, touching his sex to hers ever so slightly. Beneath him, she writhed and mewled and he teased her, withdrawing before closing in again, holding himself just outside her cleft. Finally, he could no longer bear it and thrust hard into her warm center. Sarah cried out as he claimed her. Fire erupted in her core as she felt the length of him filling her, pulsing deep inside her. Jareth let out a low moan when Sarah wrapped her long legs around his waist, drawing him in deeper. He could feel the tension building, a river of sensations dammed up at the base of his skull and down his spine. It buzzed with electricity and magic as he bucked between her trembling thighs. They moved together, faster and harder and deeper, their breaths coming in shallow spurts and their bodies beaded with perspiration. Sarah screamed his name as she forcefully came and the dam broke, unleashing a flood of pleasure and pain and sound and color. The world was spinning around Jareth's head, but all he could see was her. Her head was thrown back against the pillow, eyes closed in bliss and she was saying his name over and over. "Sarah!" he cried hoarsely and then, with a final shuddering thrust, he emptied himself into her.

Collapsing in a heap beside her on the narrow bed, he passed a trembling hand over his face. Gods, it had been so long, but it was everything he remembered. Mortal Sarah was as passionate if not more so than her mystical twin. She made love deeply, vehemently. She set his blood on fire and made him want to pluck the stars from the sky and lay them at her feet.

A sick feeling settled in his stomach. She would despise him tomorrow. Min was right. He was planning to do to her what she had done to him, but worse. She wouldn't just be chained to a wasteland. She would be consumed by it. She would know everything that he had done and she would hate him for it.

"I can't" Jareth whispered to the dark. Despite everything, the slime, the Morrigan, the Fae Council, even his own damned pride, he loved her. Even knowing she had rejected him twice and would probably do it again, he didn't see how he could carry out his plan. He knew what he had to do. He would tell her the truth. Everything. And this time, if would be up to _her_ to pronounce a judgment.

"Sarah,' he called to her, but she answered with only a sigh. He looked at where she was nestled against his chest and saw that she had fallen asleep with a little smile her face.

"Tomorrow then," he thought as sleep crept in to overtake him. "In the morning I'll tell her everything."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All of the places in this chapter exist and are worth checking out. Quirinal Palace is exquisite as is the Water Clock at Pincio. Google them and let me know what you think!


	16. Falling Slowly

Sarah yawned and stretched and looked toward the window of the little cottage. Light was just beginning to peek through the clouded panes of glass. Beside her, Jareth lay sleeping with one arm behind his head and an expression of deep satisfaction on his face. She had roused him again in the early hours, pushing him flat onto his back and riding him until his eyes had rolled back in his head and he had come, shuddering and gasping her name. Shifting slightly so as not to wake him, Sarah slid from the rumpled mattress and stood.

The air in the cottage was cool and she shivered and looked around for something to put on. Her dress lay in a heap on the floor, but Sarah had had enough of the ruined ballgown and opted instead to swipe Jareth's creamy shirt from where it lay and slip it over her head. She fished her three gold pieces from the folds of her dress and carefully secured them within the lining of the ruffled shirt.

With bare legs and bare feet, she left the small cottage and stepped out into the forest. She hadn't answered Nature's call in some time and was in urgent need of relief. Looking for an out-of-the-way place to take care of her "personal business", she followed the path of moss and leaves through the trees to a secluded niche between some large boulders. Having relieved herself, Sarah turned back and began making her way through the forest to the cottage.

As she walked, she couldn't help but notice that the chilled air around her grew colder and the morning noises in the forest stilled. She paused and listened, a sudden shudder running through her body. An oppressive presence seem to hover over her. Looking all around, Sarah scanned the trees. She saw no one, but she could strongly sense that she was not alone.

"Jareth?" she called. "Is that you?"

An icy cackle rippled through the clearing making Sarah's blood run cold.

"Hello, Sarah dear," croaked the Morrigan as she shimmered into existence in the center of the circle of trees.

"What do you want?" Sarah asked, backing away.

The goddess inclined her head. "Merely to talk," she answered. "A little chat, woman to woman."

Sarah said nothing as the goddess studied her, noting her bed-tousled hair and the fact that she wore nothing but Jareth's silken shirt.

"You fucked him, didn't you?" the Morrigan asked, narrowing her dark eyes.

Sarah shifted uncomfortably and tried to pull down the hem of Jareth's shirt. "I don't think that's any of your business," she answered, attempting to sound sure of herself.

The goddess snorted. "Perhaps not," she replied. "But it does make what I'm about to tell you frightfully uncomfortable."

"Save it," Sarah retorted. "You're a bitch and a liar and I don't need to hear anything you have to say."

"Oh tsk-tsk, Sarah," said the goddess. "I'm not the one who has lied to you. I came here only to reveal the truth before that contemptible king could seduce you with his pretty words and his pretty face. I see that I am too late."

"He hasn't _seduced_ me," argued Sarah. "I took as much as I gave, though, may I point out once again, it's none of your damn business."

The Morrigan crossed her arms over her chest and glared at Sarah. "He may have played the gentleman for _one_ night, Sarah, but you know he has not been altogether truthful about the object of your quest."

"He- he asked me to trust him," Sarah answered. "And I do. Far more than I trust the likes of you."

"Oh, you poor, naive girl," clucked the goddess as she circled Sarah. "You gave him more than your body, didn't you?"

"What are you talking about?"

"You're in love with him."

"You're bat-shit crazy."

The goddess cackled again. "Deny all you want, Sarah dear. The truth is there. I have seen it. You love him. But then, you always have."

"I don't understand what you're talking about," Sarah fumed. "Doesn't anyone of your kind know how to communicate without talking in circles?"

"Sarah," said the goddess, reaching out her hand, "Don't you remember? You've walked this land before."

"Yes," answered Sarah. "I ran the Labyrinth fifteen years ago. I beat it."

"Before that, Sarah," smiled the Morrigan. "You've had flashes of memory, I'm sure. The _Anima vasa_ would have seen to that. Think, Sarah. What have you seen?"

Sarah thought back to all the dreams she had had of Jareth and the Labyrinth since finding the first gold fragment: dreams of dangers in the dark, of kissing Jareth and of making love to him, of leaving him broken on a rain-soaked plain.

"But-" she began, "Those were just dreams… weren't they?"

The goddess regarded her coolly. "Those were more than dreams, Sarah," she answered flatly. "They were memories. Memories of an existence that was lost to you. For a time."

Sarah trembled and didn't know if was from the cool morning or from the icy dread that was slowly settling in her stomach. She looked at the goddess with a question burning on her lips. She knew she needed to hear the answer, but wasn't sure she wanted to.

"That existence…" she paused and swallowed before continuing. "Who- who was I?"

A broad grin broke over the goddess' face. "You have many names," she told her. "Some have called you Serah, Sorcha, Zahra. I have known you as The Mistress of the Half-Moon, a sorceress and my protege."

Sarah felt herself crumple under the gaze of the goddess. A sorceress! No, _The_ Sorceress. She had seen it in her dreams too clearly to doubt that what the goddess said was true. She had loved Jareth in another life and had cruelly betrayed him. Her chest ached at the thought of him exhausting himself nearly to death trying to follow her as she abandoned him.

"Why?" she whispered through sobs. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Because you need to know the truth, Sarah. You need to know who you are and what you've done. And you need to know the truth about your precious king of the goblins and what he intends to do with the _Anima vasa_."

Sarah's head shot up and she looked at the Morrigan, confused.

The goddess sighed and continued. "You can wield the _Anima vasa_ , Sarah. However, there is an old saying about a woman scorned and I want to be certain that I am on the right side of things when its power and secrets are unleashed."

Slowly, Sarah reached into Jareth's billowy shirt and withdrew the three gold fragments.

"What does this do?" she asked the goddess.

"The vessel on its own does little," she replied. "But it houses a devastating force of evil and anger. Forbidden magic created it eons ago and forbidden magic recaptured it and locked it safely away, forgotten by Time, until now."

"What is it?" Sarah dared to ask, fearing the answer.

"Why, Sarah dear, it's _you._ "

* * *

Jareth opened his eyes, blinking in the bright citrine light that poured through the window of the tiny cottage.

"Sarah," he groaned and reached for her. His hand found nothing but empty space.

Alarmed, he sat up in the bed and looked around. "Sarah?" he called again. There was no answer.

He swung his legs over the side of the narrow bed and reached for the clothing that lay in a pile on the floor. He hurriedly pulled on his breeches and searched the pockets, breathing a sigh of relief when he pulled out the final fragment of the _Anima vasa._ He knew it had been a grave mistake to leave it lying about so carelessly, but he had hardly been in a cautious state of mind the evening before when he'd tossed his breeches on the floor at Sarah's feet.

Not finding his shirt, Jareth decided to forego it and stepped out into the cool morning air bare-chested. "Sarah?" he called out into the forest. No reply came, but the air carried a vapor of dark magic. It tingled against his skin and pricked at the corners of his eyes. Something evil was in the forest and the Goblin King had no doubt who it was.

"Sarah!" he called out as he took off, racing through the forest. Her essence was faint, mingled with the pulsing wave of the Morrigan's witchcraft. For the first time in days, Jareth called for his magic. Undampened, it surged through his body, buzzing into his arms and legs. He winced at the reaction, painful yet sensuous, like a tingling extremity that has fallen asleep. Drawing himself inward, Jareth unleashed the spell and transformed into a snowy owl. On swift wings, he flew and scanned the forest for signs of Sarah. He let out a cry of relief when he spotted her in a clearing. She stood before the goddess with her head bowed.

"Get away from her," he cried, transforming even as he landed in the clearing.

"We're merely talking, Goblin King," said the Morrigan.

"Sarah," Jareth called out to where the girl stood with her back to him. "Sarah, come to me."

She slowly turned and Jareth gasped. Her eyes were rimmed deep red and her face was paler than he'd ever seen it. She had a haunted look in her eyes, an expression of grief and sorrow tinged with anger.

"What have you done to her?" he shouted at the goddess.

She scoffed. "I have merely told her the truth, Jareth, seeing as you have not. I thought Sarah deserved to know what it is that you intend for her."

"Is it true?" Sarah whispered, trembling. "Is it true, Jareth?"

"What did she tell you, Sarah?"

"She- she said the _Anima vasa_ is not a thing of power or a weapon. That _I_ am. A weapon that you plan to use."

"Sarah, that's not all of-"

"Shut the fuck up, Goblin King," Sarah snarled. "You knew what it meant to unleash it, didn't you? You admitted as much."

"Yes."

"You knew that releasing my magic back to me would call the evil slime back to me as well,"

Jareth was silent, but nodded.

Sarah choked back a sob. "You knew it would likely overwhelm me and destroy me."

"No," Jareth countered. "I hoped that you would be able to control it, to push it back to the depths…" his voice trailed off.

"And why didn't you see fit to tell me about any of this? To prepare me? Train me?"

"I was going to tell you."

"When?"

"This morning," he answered, looking away.

Sarah's eyes narrowed to slits. "Right," she growled. "After you'd gotten _everything_ you wanted from me."

He snapped his head back to look at her. "Sarah… please listen."

"No!" screamed Sarah. "You listen. I was right to leave you here all those years ago. You deserve a wasteland, Jareth because you _are_ a wasteland. You're empty of any genuine emotion. All you know is deception and games and getting the upper hand over your opponent."

Sarah paused as a sickening realization settled coldly over her heart. "That's what this is all about, isn't it?" she asked. "This is your sick revenge on me for hurting you." She shook her head angrily and looked at him with tears spilling from her eyes. "Maybe I deserve to hurt for what I did to you, Jareth, but I don't deserve to die, especially since that's not who I am now."

The Morrigan, who had been silently watching the exchange, piped in finally.

"Sarah, give me the pieces of the _Anima vasa._ I'll destroy it for good this time. Let the Goblin King and his wretched subjects be consumed by the mire. You'll be free of him forever."

Sarah looked at the pieces in her hand and then back at Jareth. His expression was a familiar one. She'd seen it on the soggy plain and again in the crumbling tower. His eyes begged, pleaded.

" _Sarah, please don't."_

* * *

The daemon pricked his ears and sniffed the air. Laurel's scent still lingered in the area, but there was no sign of her or the dwarf. He had been less-than enthusiastic when his wife had told him she was going to leave the safety of the camp to follow after Squashblossom.

"Rightly so," he grumbled. "Bull-headed females…"

He sniffed the air again, catching a whiff of the sterile ether of the Bright Ones. The Morrigan's forces had been there. Jasper cursed in the goblin tongue.

"I should never have let her out of my sight," he berated himself. He stealthily made his way back to the camp to tell the others.

"We must move forward quickly," he explained. "There isn't much time. The Morrigan's forces have already been scouting the area. They are ready to move in and lay siege to the castle."

"But the others have not yet arrived," said a young fawn on the edge of the group. "And the veil closes. Soon, no one else will be able to get through. We will be on our own against the army of the goddess."

Jasper sighed. He had seen the tightening threads. He knew they were running out of time. But time was exactly what they needed to buy for the Goblin King and Sarah.

"Do not be deceived, my young friend," he told the fawn. "We're not here to battle to victory over the goddess. We must only keep her forces occupied until His Majesty returns. We will not win against the Morrigan if we wage war with her army. However, we can keep them pushed back for a little while. Hopefully, it will be enough."

Jasper looked out above the walls of the Labyrinth toward the camp where clusters of soldiers were beginning to gather once more. Laurel and Squashblossom were probably there and were most likely being harshly interrogated.

"Be strong, my love," he said. "We're coming."

* * *

Sarah ran. Clutching the gold pieces tightly to her chest, she ran from the clearing and into the forest. The laughter of the goddess echoed after her and Sarah knew she could easily track her, but still she ran. She had no particular destination in mind, she just had to get away from both the Morrigan and the Goblin King. Her head was swimming and her heart ached and she wanted to fall down on the ground and kick and scream like a spoiled child.

"You are so stupid, Williams!" she yelled at herself. "You knew what he was and the kinds of games he plays and you went right ahead and handed yourself over to him!"

She felt humiliated. Jareth had used her. She didn't know why she felt so surprised and shocked by that fact. Maybe because he had seemed to care. Maybe because she had started to care for _him._ She remembered what the goddess had said.

_You're in love with him._

Sarah shook her head as she ran. "No!" she thought. "I'm not. I can't. I **won't.** I... I won't love him."

Gasping and sobbing, Sarah stopped at the top of the hill where she and Jareth had surveyed the land. The Labyrinth twisted out before her and beyond it, she could see the Goblin City. The gate and door to the city were gone and the slime was oozing down into the crooked streets and over the entrances to the goblin dwellings. The goblins had taken refuge in the castle keep. Sarah could see them leaning out from the windows and battlements in shock and despair as the mire engulfed their homes. She knew Hoggle, Ludo and Sir Didymus were there as well, no doubt praying for rescue.

Sarah's gaze swept to the southern border where soldiers in gleaming armor were forming ranks on the open plain outside the Dark Forest. They stomped over the marshy field, grasping broad shields and glinting swords. It was only a matter of hours before they would reach the city and the castle and lay siege to it, pushing all who sheltered there backward into the path of the suffocating sludge.

A glimmer of light drew Sarah's attention away from the soldiers and toward the heart of the Labyrinth. She could see figures moving through the glittering walls of the maze on an interception path between the Morrigan's army and the Goblin Castle. She gazed in wonder and awe as the creatures from the safehouse in Jerusalem, led by Laurel's husband, Jasper, tramped through the Labyrinth. She couldn't see Laurel or Squashblossom, but there were others. Many others. An army.

"They didn't desert him after all!" thought Sarah with a start. Her eyes continued to follow the rag-tag band of Satyrs and daemons and elves and beasts and goblin children as they marched toward the castle.

"They have to be aware that it's hopeless," she said aloud. She closed her eyes and let out the deep breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding.

"No, not hopeless," she thought. She looked down again at the _Anima vasa_ and made up her mind. Reaching out into the void and drawing out a forgotten spark of magic, she whispered to the wind.

"Jareth."

* * *

"This isn't over," the Goblin King growled at the goddess.

She laughed. "Oh, I think it is. Sarah won't run from me forever, especially now that she knows what you've done. Do you always use sex to get what you want, Jareth?"

He didn't answer but followed the Morrigan's gaze as she looked him up and down, taking in the sight of his pale, bare chest and the defined lines of his abdomen that cut into a deep V beneath his breeches.

"It's been a long time, hasn't it Jareth?" she asked him, smiling. "We could have had an eternity of pleasure if you hadn't been so pathetically preoccupied with that mortal girl."

"She's more than that and you know it," spat Jareth.

"Oh, full well, dear. And now so does she. And she despises you." The goddess laughed. "You really are quite pitiful, Goblin King," she sneered. "Your entire existence is being eaten away and you have just managed to lose the one person who could save you. Brilliant work."

Jareth started to make a retort but a whisper on the wind made him pause and listen. It came softly, like a breathed prayer.

" _Jareth"_

He looked at the goddess, hoping she had not heard it, but she was still laughing to herself at his predicament.

"You won't get what you want from me, Goddess," he said as he began to walk away.

The Morrigan's laughter subsided and she glared at him. "Not yet, perhaps. But I will very soon. There's no use in fighting, Jareth. My soldiers have intercepted your little spies. It's only a matter of time before they break and tell us where the others are."

"Spies? Others?" asked Jareth, confused.

The goddess rolled her eyes. "Don't play the fool, Jareth," she said. "The dwarfess and her companion were captured near the gates of the Labyrinth. No doubt you thought you could raise a militia against me, but as with everything you do, it has failed."

Jareth weighed her words with his heart thundering in his chest. If Squashblossom had returned with others it meant that her journey to Jerusalem had been successful. If that were true, he had not been abandoned! Jareth schooled his face so as not to show his renewed hope. He had to make the goddess believe he was truly defeated.

"I will meet you on the battlefield then, Morrigan. Even if I have to face you and your forces alone," he said quietly as he stalked away. He meant every word.

* * *

Sarah was sitting on top of the hill where they had stood the night before when Jareth appeared beside her. She didn't look at him, but continued gazing out over the plain where the two approaching armies would meet.

"The Underground has not been forsaken," he said, noting the odd band of creatures and beings that traipsed boldly through the maze toward the Morrigan's forces of armor and steel.

Sarah nodded slowly. "That must be what Jaga meant. They hadn't run away. They'd run to help you."

"Sarah…" Jareth began but she cut him off, turning to face him.

"I want you to understand Jareth, that what I'm about to say has nothing at all to do with you. This is about my friends and the others who, for some reason, have chosen to remain your allies." She paused, unsure how to go on. Jareth watched her as she chewed her lip and fought for the right words to say.

"I want to save _them._ I… I'll use the _Anima vasa._ I'll try to save the Underground. But listen to me. This is for Ludo and Didymus. It's for Hoggle and Squashblossom. It isn't for you or about you. You can drown in the fucking Bog for all I care." Angry tears spilled down her cheeks as she said the words and she turned away with a sob.

"I understand," Jareth replied softly.

"What do I need to do?" Sarah asked.

"May I show you something first, Sarah?"

"Fine, but be quick. There's not much time left."

He nodded and took her hand. In a flash he had transported them to a shadowy corner of the Goblin Kingdom. Sarah looked around, sensing the charged air and rippling current of magic above her head.

"You feel it, don't you?" asked Jareth.

Sarah nodded. "What is it?"

"The veil is closing, Sarah. The Morrigan has placed an enchantment over the land, isolating it from aid and ensuring that none of us escape the evil slime." He put his hand up and touched the ether and it rippled, allowing Sarah to see the tight threads that were closing around them.

"Time is running out," Sarah sighed.

"Yes," Jareth answered.

Reaching into the lining of his shirt, Sarah withdrew the three gold fragments. "Tell me what to do, Jareth."

"You only need to assemble the _Anima vasa_ ," he told her. "It knows you. It will respond to you and restore you and your magic."

"And the evil stuff will be called back to me." Jareth didn't answer and Sarah turned to him with pleading eyes. "What will happen?" she asked. "Will it rip me apart? Will it crush me? Will it- will it hurt?"

"Sarah, I don't know," said Jareth. He stepped toward her and put his hands on her shoulders and was surprised when she didn't back away.

"I'm scared," she whispered.

"I know."

Sarah closed her eyes and took a deep breath before setting about putting the pieces together. Her dark brows knit as she worked, linking up the broken bits to form the beginning of a shape: a dark circle set among horned petals. Ancient words that had been worn down with time sharpened and shone from the gold petals.

Jareth watched her, his heart falling to pieces as she fit the severed fragments together. He knew Sarah was lost to him. She hated him. But even in her heartache she was willing to put her own life on the line for others. Jareth's chest clenched with shame and regret. If only he could have been so selfless. But as always, his pride had won out and now he was going to lose her. Again.

Sarah held out her hand to him.

"Give me the last piece," she said and he didn't miss the quiver in her voice. Wordlessly he placed the final fragment in her hand. Sarah closed her eyes tight and set the piece into place. She held her breath waiting for the magic to whirl around her, rip into her or bury her under its black force. Nothing happened.

Snapping her eyes open she looked at Jareth. There was an odd twinkle in his eye.

"Jareth, why didn't-" Sarah began to ask, but Jareth caught her in his arms and kissed her fiercely. Sarah let herself cling to him for a moment, feeling the urgency in the kiss and the protective way he held her to his chest. He was kissing her breathless, as if his life hinged on the promise of her lips. Sarah closed her eyes, melting into his passionate embrace.

He abruptly released her and she stumbled back a step. Jareth used that brief moment of imbalance to strike. With a purposeful shove, he pushed her backward into the ebbing veil, the _Anima vasa_ tumbling from her hands as she fell. The air buzzed and crackled with staticky filaments of magic.

"Jareth!" Sarah called as she tumbled in slow motion into the darkness of the InBetween. She could see him above her, a look of painful resignation on his face.

"Goodbye, Sarah," he called to her before the veil closed in front of him and he vanished from her view, leaving only the void.

Jareth watched as Sarah sank into the darkness of the void and the Morrigan's spell tightened the final entrapping threads behind her. Reaching down, he picked up the _Anima vasa_ and removed the fourth piece, the fake he had tried to pass off to Romulus.

"Stupid girl," he muttered with a wistful smile.

With a flick of his fingers he clothed himself for battle. Burnished black armor covered his arms and legs. An ebony breastplate adorned with his sigil shielded his chest. His hair flowed wild, streaked with inky locks braided with raven feathers and shards of bone. A midnight leather cape billowed in the wind behind him and a dark sword swung at his hip.

With a final backward glance toward the rippling veil where Sarah had vanished, Jareth turned and marched back toward the castle and the open plain where the Morrigan and her army awaited him.


	17. Army of the Exiles

Wet. Sarah was wet. Wet and cold and incredibly uncomfortable. She tried to pull herself up to a sitting position and groaned. Her whole body ached as if she'd been thrown off a cliff. She shook her head to stop its spinning and tried to look at her surroundings. She was in a grassy patch somewhere outdoors. The sky was steel gray and fat raindrops were falling all around. Thunder rumbled in the distance. Sarah stood on wobbly legs and attempted to get her bearings. The grassy patch was part of a larger area with a reflecting pond and a bridge and a gazebo.

She froze.

"I'm in the park," she said aloud. " _My_ park. How did I get here?" She rubbed her throbbing head, trying to remember. She had been in Jordan on a dig. She'd found something…"

Everything came rushing back in one bright, painful moment of clarity and she clasped her forehead in agony. She remembered the _Anima vasa._ The Morrigan. The quest to find the pieces. She remembered the Masquerade. The escape from Rome. She remembered… Jareth.

Sarah's legs went weak under her and she crumpled back down to the soggy ground.

"Jareth," she whispered.

She'd been with him, ready to save them all and he'd… He'd sent her back. Rather than let her sacrifice herself, he had pushed her through the closing veil and back into the Aboveground.

"Damn him," she cursed, tearing up clumps of wet grass. "Why did he do such a dumb thing?"

What would have compelled him to throw it all away when she could have solved all of his problems in seconds? A thought occurred to Sarah but she shook it away. It was too ridiculous to even consider. The king of the goblins cared for no one but himself. But they way he had kissed her in that final moment…

Sarah knew the Morrigan had been right about _her_ feelings. It had not been apparent to Sarah how she felt until the goddess had told her of Jareth's plan. She'd been more than angry. She'd been humiliated. And she had been heartbroken. Despite their difficult history and Sarah's initial mistrust of him, somewhere along the way she had fallen in love with him. She wasn't sure when it had happened. Perhaps in the cottage. Maybe at the masquerade. Maybe even the first time he'd smirked down at her from the balcony railing of the library at Kerak. It hardly mattered now. She had thought maybe he cared for her as well, but the goddess had shattered that illusion. He had been using her. Using her for revenge and to save his own glittery ass. So why had he sent her back?

Once again Sarah pulled herself off the damp ground and stood.

She had willingly agreed to wield the _Anima vasa._ She had been ready to stare Death in the face. She'd put the pieces into place. He had given her the last one.

"That cheating bastard," Sarah sighed, shaking her head as she realized just what he had done.

Another, more chilling realization settled over her and she shivered in the damp air.

The Goblin King and the Underground were still in danger! He had the _Anima vasa_ , but according to him and the goddess, she was the one who had to wield it. It was useless without her! Sarah thought frantically as she trudged from the park in the rain.

"I have to get back to the Underground, but how?" she thought. "The veil closed behind me. It's highly likely that it's completely closed off now."

She stomped the ground, sending up a spray of mud over her bare legs.

"Think, Sarah, think! There has to be a way!"

The idea dawned on her just as a crash of thunder echoed over the park and a streak of lightning flashed across the sky. Sarah took off in a mad sprint toward her childhood home.

* * *

Hoggle, Ludo and Sir Didymus looked up, startled as The Goblin King crashed through the doors of the throne room. He looked fierce and determined, clad completely in black and carrying a wicked sword.

"Your Majesty hath returned!" piped up Sir Didymus. Ludo grinned and purred. Hoggle looked around suspiciously.

"Where's Squashblossom?" he demanded. "And where's Sarah?"

"Sarah is gone," said the king. "And as for Squidbladder, she got herself captured by the Morrigan's army."

"What?!" yelled Hoggle. "You just wait till I get my hands on-"

Jareth looked at the little dwarf, wriggling helplessly against the magic of the Morrigan. With just a wave of his hand, the unseen bindings were loosed and Hoggle and the knight were freed. Hoggle bent his knees and flexed his legs, getting used to being able to move them once more.

"What didst thou mean, Sire?" asked Sir Didymus. "Sarah is gone? Tell me the fair maid hath not perished!"

Jareth shook his head. "She is alive and well," he told the group. "Which is more than I can say for most of us, if we don't do move quickly." He looked down at his loyal knight. "Sir Didymus, gather the goblins. Take them into the heart of the castle and barricade the door. The Morrigan's army may not choose to come after you, but if they do..."

The knight nodded and bowed. "I shall do my best to see they are protected, Sire."

Jareth turned to Ludo. "There is a band of allies just inside the Labyrinth," he told him. "They'll need to get back to the Western Hills. I need you to show them the way."

The gentle beast and the gallant knight bowed and scurried out of the throne room. Jareth turned and addressed Hoggle.

"Hagrid, I don't suppose you'll be sticking around for the battle," he said to the dwarf.

"The name's Hoggle and if it's all the same to you, I'm getting out of here while the gettin's good!" the little man answered.

The Goblin King nodded his head in understanding and watched as the dwarf ran out of the throne room and down the stairs. He couldn't blame the little scab one bit.

Going to the window, Jareth looked out over his kingdom. The goblin city was rapidly disappearing beneath the black muck. Beyond the southern gate the Morrigan's army was amassing with weapons at the ready.

"That was quite the noble thing to do, Jareth. I'm proud of you," said Min, appearing at his side.

He shook his head. "Don't be," he answered with a snort. "I'm three-for-three when it comes to allowing Sarah to run out and leave me in ruins."

Min laughed. "Oh Jareth, you're such a sentimental fool. You'd make a terrible god. We hardly have time for such things."

"Speaking of gods," said the Goblin King, "I don't suppose…"

Min shook her head. "No, Jareth, I'm sorry. The Olympians have their own dire dealings to attend to and no desire to get mixed up in the affairs of the Tuatha de. I only came by to tell you that I'm proud of you for being completely selfless for once. Sarah would have sacrificed herself, you know."

"I know." Jareth nodded. "But I couldn't let her."

"Because you love her."

"Yes."

Min kissed his cheek and wished him luck before disappearing. Jareth sank down into his throne and put his head in his hands.

* * *

"Sarah!" Toby exclaimed as his sister bolted through the front door and headed for the stairs.

"Hey-Tobes-no-time-to-talk-gotta-get-to-the-attic" Sarah gushed as she dashed up the stairs. Hearing the commotion, Robert and Karen Williams rushed into the livingroom and glanced up at the sight of Sarah, dripping wet and barefoot, bounding up the attic steps.

"Sarah!" called her father. "Where the hell have you been? We've been worried sick!"

"Not now, Dad!" Sarah called back without even turning around.

"What is she doing?" he asked his wife.

"Forget what she's doing, what is she _wearing_?" asked Karen, noting the rain-soaked thin silk shirt Sarah was wearing as a dress.

Upstairs, Sarah threw open the attic door and began tossing boxes aside. She pushed her way to the back corner of the cramped attic where her old bedroom vanity sat beneath a sheet. Its accompanying mirror was propped on the wall beside it. Kneeling down, Sarah peered deep into the glass of the mirror.

"Every castle worth its salt has a secret entrance," she said, remembering Jareth's words at the masquerade. "I hope you're right, Goblin King."

Inching forward, she put a hand out and touched the mirror. It rippled beneath her fingers and she sat back, alarmed. Steeling her nerves, Sarah reached out again. She pushed her hand through the mirror, then her arm, then her shoulder. The mirror gave a slight sucking sound and the glass wrinkled around her and she slipped through to the other side.

* * *

Laurel and Squashblossom sat silently in the general's tent listening to the sound of stomping boots and clanging swords as the Morrigan's army readied for battle. They were both bruised and battered from the interrogations carried out by Torin's soldiers, but they had not broken and given up their comrades.

"Do you think the others were able to get through?" Squashblossom asked at last.

Laurel shrugged, wincing. "The veil was almost closed, but perhaps a few more of His Majesty's allies were able to make it through."

"Enough to make a difference?" asked the dwarf.

The question hung unanswered. Laurel and Squashblossom knew their chances of victory were slim to none. The Morrigan's army was highly trained and equipped. Even if a sizable militia had gathered to fight for the Goblin Kingdom, it would be severely outskilled and outgunned by the forces of the goddess.

"We only need to buy time," Laurel reminded the dwarf. "His Majesty and Sarah are surely on their way…"

"Well, we've gotta get out of here," said Squashblossom. "I don't like sittin' around here useless."

She tried to move her hands against her bindings, but it was no use. She gave up with a grunt.

"If I'd knowed that's all it took to make you sit still and listen, I'd woulda tried it years ago," creaked a voice from the entrance of the tent.

Squashblossom looked up and nearly screamed.

Fortunately, Hoggle was quick and rushed forward to muffle his wife's mouth before she could shout his name.

"Quiet, damn woman," he barked. "I'm tryin' not to get caught!"

Squashblossom nodded her head and Hoggle removed his hand from her mouth.

"Oh, Sweetums!" she whispered. "I knew you would come for me!"

"Really?" asked Hoggle, his eyes growing wide.

Of course she had known no such thing, but his wife would never tell him that. He had surprised her, infiltrating the camp and coming to her rescue. He was perhaps more heroic than she gave him credit for.

"Let's get them ropes off," Hoggle said. He pulled a small blade from his pocket and swiftly cut the ropes that held the two females.

The trio crouched down at the tent flap and watched as the Morrigan's men gathered and prepared to march to the castle.

"Have the king's allies made it to the castle?" Laurel quietly asked Hoggle. She was concerned for her husband as well as her fellow inhabitants from Above.

"They're being led to safety as we speak." Hoggle told her. "The king is sending everyone away."

"They made it back!" exclaimed Squashblossom a little too loudly.

Hoggle shushed her. "Not 'they', just him. Jareth came back alone."

"Where's Sarah?" asked Laurel.

"Beats me," answered Hoggle. "Alls I know is that if somethin' happened to her, I'll kill him."

Squashblossom looked at her husband and saw by his expression that he meant what he said.

"They're moving out," said Laurel, as the soldiers fell into step and began moving down the hill to the castle. "Now's our chance."

The trio crept quietly from the tent and ran, following the shaded border of the Dark Forest to the edge of the Bog.

Holding their noses, they made their way over the rock bridge and down the path toward the refuse tunnels under the Labyrinth. Hoggle led the way, navigating easily through twists and turns, down ladders and around loops as they neared their friends waiting to do battle outside the castle walls.

* * *

Jareth took a drag from his cigarette and blew the smoke out in ever-widening rings. Across the misty plain, the Morrigan's army marched as one, their armor glinting through the deep morning mist. The field behind the king was empty. He supposed it was better that way. Fewer witnesses to his epic downfall and defeat. He snorted and took another drag from his cigarette before crushing it under his boot and brandishing his sword.

The goddess appeared before him and sneered. "Jareth, what happened to your little army? Not even a single goblin to fight alongside you?"

"I told you that I would fight you, even if I had to do it alone," he replied coolly, exhaling a cloud of smoke right into the goddess' face.

"Ugh," grimaced the Morrigan. She waved the smoke away with her hand. "Where is the sport in that? I had hoped to at least be allowed to witness you and your entire kingdom of rejects being utterly annihilated."

"Sorry to disappoint you, _goddess_ ," Jareth answered.

"We could put an end to all of this now, Goblin King," the Morrigan began. "Give me the _Anima vasa._ It's of no use to you since you so _gallantly_ sent sweet Sarah back Above. You fool."

"I beg to differ," said Jareth. "The _Anima vasa_ is of great use to me. I'm certain the Fae Council would love to know the secrets it holds." He looked at the goddess and saw her visibly flinch. Smiling, he continued. "They would no doubt be very interested to know who stole it and used it to bind one of her own kind. Forbidden magic used for a forbidden purpose. That's why you want it so badly, isn't it? It's the one piece of irrefutable evidence you haven't been able to destroy."

Jareth narrowed his eyes and stalked toward the goddess. "I've not been able to prove to the Council what you did for centuries, but now I can and I will. They will rend you."

"You wouldn't dare!" spat the Morrigan.

"Oh wouldn't I?" asked Jareth raising an eyebrow. "Of course, I could be convinced to keep such information to myself if you agreed to help me defeat this evil slime and save my kingdom."

The goddess glared at him before breaking into peals of laughter. "You would blackmail _me_?" Her face grew dark, suddenly sinister. "I could strike you down where you stand and take what I want from you, Goblin King."

"If you can, why haven't you?" he asked with a sneer.

Glowering, the Morrigan crossed her arms over her chest. "So it's war, then?"

The Goblin King shrugged nonchalantly.

"Very well," said the goddess. "It will give me great pleasure to watch your destruction, Jareth King of the Goblins." She faded from view and Jareth steadied himself against one of the crumbling walls.

He looked out over the barren plain that spread between the Labyrinth and the Dark Forest watching the advancing forces that marched toward him with even steps. He gripped the handle of his dark sword as the lines of soldiers gathered on the hill above him. To his left, the glittering walls of the Labyrinth winked in the light. To his right, the castle rose up, a watchtower over the land of exiles, misfits and the wished-away.

"Im sorry," the king whispered to the land. "I've let you down."

Beside him, the mist parted and Jareth watched as Sir Didymus approached followed by a band of solemn-faced goblins. The knight bowed before his king.

"Your Majesty," he said, "You have let no one down. You have been our protector and defender. We are here to return the favor and show our gratitude."

"I appreciate your bravery and your loyalty," Jareth told him. "But this won't be a fair fight. Not even close."

"Closer than you think," called a voice from the mist. Jasper strode out of the thick vapor leading his army of outcasts to stand before the king.

"We have come from the four corners of the Above," Jasper told him. "And we are prepared to fight alongside you, Your Majesty."

Jareth watched dumbstruck as the shabby but gallant crowd slowly bowed their heads to him.

Without a word, Jareth wove a spell over their lowered heads. The tattered militia glimmered with his magic as he clothed them in shining armor. Shields took shape in their hands and swords appeared at their sides. The allies bowed again in thankfulness to their monarch before clutching their weapons and following him forward.

* * *

Blinking in the darkness of the oubliette, Sarah fumbled forward. The mirror in the attic had brought her into the musty depths of the Labyrinth. With her heart racing, she pushed through the secret door and followed the well-worn path toward the castle. She could hear the thrum of marching soldiers and knew the fierce battle would be waged soon. Turning a corner at high speed, she raced headlong into Hoggle, Squashblossom and Laurel.

"Sarah!" the trio cried in unison.

"Hoggle! Squashblossom! Laurel!" Sarah exclaimed, overjoyed to see her friends alive and well.

"Jareth said you were gone," said Hoggle, putting his hands on his hips. "He didn't hurt ya, did he?"

"No,' Sarah answered. "In fact, he saved me." She saw the look of surprise and disbelief in the dwarf's eyes. "I don't have time to explain," she continued. "I can save you all, but I have to get back to the castle."

"Well, follow me!" Hoggle cried.

Sarah and the others followed Hoggle through a trap door behind a section of hedge maze. He pushed aside a stone panel carved with Jareth's face and it opened, revealing a dark stairway leading upward.

"Straight up the stairs," he said, nodding to the door. He paused a moment, awkwardly fumbling for words. "Sarah," he said finally. "We're gonna go with the others to fight. So's if I don't see ya again, I want ya to know that… that…"

Sarah bent down and embraced the dwarf. "Oh Hoggle," she whispered. "I know. Me too."

Hoggle wiped a tear from his leathery face. "Good luck, Sarah."

"Thanks. You too," she answered before disappearing up the steps.

Sarah followed the stairs up and up, winding to the top of one of the towers. Opening, a large wooden door, she found herself on a balcony overlooking the Labyrinth. Below her, the battlefield stretched between the two opposing forces. Jareth's militia, no longer clothed in scraps and rags but shining armor and glistening swords, fell into step behind him. Her breath caught as she watched the Goblin King march across the mist-covered plain. He was resplendent and terrifying, clothed all in black and armed with a large sword. His eyes flashed fire as he gave a sharp cry and charged the battlefield. The army behind him followed, breaking into a sprint over the plain toward the Morrigan's waiting forces. Sarah watched, entranced, as the army of the exiles, led by their king, raised their swords and raced toward the enemy. Her heart pounded. She had to act quickly.

Closing her eyes, Sarah reached out once more into the magical firmament. She let her vision expand over the land, searching. The sounds from the battlefield were growing louder. The armies was mere seconds away from clashing. She pushed her mind further, calling out to what had first called to her. It echoed her call and Sarah used her second-sight to find it. The pieces of the _Anima vasa_ pulsed beneath Jareth's dark breastplate. Sarah drew all her strength around her and called the pieces to her hand.

On the battlefield, Jareth froze and whirled around. He clutched at his chest, having felt the fragments leave him. He gazed up at the tower and saw Sarah standing at the parapets with the pieces in her hand.

"No!" he cried. "Sarah don't!"

It was too late.


	18. We All Fall Down

The air around Sarah stilled as the final shining piece of the _Anima vasa_ clicked into place. Time slowed for an agonizing moment and Sarah stared, transfixed as particles of magic swirled and shifted above her head and around her body. They exploded in a blinding flash of searing white light and Sarah screamed as her body caught fire. Her skin burned and bubbled, her humanity falling away like shed scales. In her blood and in her bones, her power blazed to life, bursting through her lungs and heart and sending chaotic spasms into the neurons of her brain. Her mortal mind fought against the onslaught of information and images. Memories of a past long forgotten. Memories of a life the goddess had stolen and locked away in a golden cell.

Some of the memories she recognized from her dreams: kissing Jareth's mouth for the first time, lying tangled with him in her bed in the dark castle, leaving him bound and broken in the rain.

Other memories were new: her attempt to steal the Morrigan's key spell to release Jareth from his bond, being caught by her mistress and former teacher, being stripped of her power and stuffed into a frail mortal body as punishment.

Sarah opened her eyes as the magic blazed around her. The Morrigan. This was all _her_ doing. She had manipulated them for years out of spite and jealousy. If the Fae Council knew what she had done with the _Anima vasa_ she would likely be cast from their midst. No wonder she had been fighting so hard against them. And knowing they were so close to uncovering the truth, the goddess had tried to turn her heart against Jareth. The man she loved.

Oh, she knew he was no saint. He'd stretched the truth and used her mercilessly. But she had done the same to him. And just as she had done eons before, Jareth had tried to make amends. He had not let her sacrifice herself. She was his only hope and he'd let her go. Selfless at last.

Sarah looked down at where he stood gazing up at her in horror. With a wild cry, she surrendered herself to the magic. Fire burst from the tower as her power took hold and she wove it around her, speaking long-forgotten words of enchantment. Below her, the ground lurched, sending soldiers on both sides tumbling to the dirt.

Jareth watched in wonder and awe as mist gathered around Sarah, shielding her from his view. The earth trembled again and the Morrigan's army began to scurry backwards. Thunder rumbled over the land and the sky above the Underground grew dark and shrouded with sinister clouds.

The charging armies froze as the land groaned and creaked beneath their feet. The castle walls shook, loosening bricks and plaster. Smoke rose from the tower, thick and acrid. Jareth's sword fell to the ground at his feet as the castle gates burst open and a figure walked out of the billowing smoke.

Sarah.

Jareth blinked his eyes in the smoke and mist, watching her. She strode forward with determination in every step. Her eyes were dark and focused straight ahead, her hair long and blowing behind her. She wore a flowing gown of black silk covered by an inky black cape. All eyes were on her as she stepped onto the battlefield wielding quiet fury and concentrated rage. Raising a pale hand over the plain, Sarah flicked her fingers and the soldiers of the Morrigan dissolved into dust. Swords and armor clattered to the ground as the goddess's army melted away into nothingness.

From her perch over the battlefield, the goddess watched in horror as her army was decimated. She saw the fire and fury in Sarah's eyes and in a rare moment of panic, fled to the safety of the High Council's chambers.

Sarah glared out over the plain, searching for any enemies she may have missed. Her eyes found Jareth. He stood gazing at her with his mouth agape. Her expression softened and she floated toward him, extending a hand to him.

"Jareth," she said. "I wanted to save you. _**All**_ of you. You sent me away. Why?"

He held her intense gaze. "You know why," he answered simply.

She brushed his cheek with her hand before placing a kiss on his lips. "You can't stop me this time," she whispered.

His eyes snapped open at her words. "No, Sarah," he commanded. "You mustn't."

Sarah laughed and raised her hands above her head. "Run, Jareth," she told him.

"Please, Sarah. Don't!"

He stood still, watching in horror, as she began calling the dark magic to her. She peeled it back from the land like dead skin. She reached down into the earth, ripping it out like gnarled roots. The slick sludge flowed up and out, heeding her call. The ground buckled as the slime spewed out in black, sticky geysers.

" _Run, Jareth!"_ he heard her voice whisper to his mind. He scowled. " _No!"_ he shouted back. " _I won't leave you!"_

" _Very well,"_ came the reply. Wielding her magic with precision, Sarah pushed back the inhabitants and allies of the Labyrinth away from the gushing slime. Jareth thrust his sword into the ground, daring her to move him. He held to it as the wind of her fury whirled around him. The slime was thickening around her and Sarah focused her strength on moving the stubborn king. With a heartbreaking cry, she pried his fingers from the hilt of his sword. He flew upward, carried aloft by her force until he crashed down in the relative safety of the castle keep.

Screaming her name, Jareth clawed his way to the edge of the tower balcony and watched as the slime rose up around Sarah. He didn't turn away as she threw her head back and opened herself up to the dark magic. Her body shuddered and rippled as she absorbed the evil force back into herself. The dark, forbidden magic swirled around her and through her and she let it possess her fully, mingling with her blood and marrow and bone. The last inky tendrils slithered out of the land and curled around Sarah. She twitched and writhed in pain as the magic was absorbed into her, filling her lungs and choking her throat. Finally, the last traces of dark sludge disappeared from the land and into her center.

She gazed up at Jareth and smiled in triumph before pitching forward and crumpling to the ground.

He was kneeling at her side in seconds.

"Sarah," he cried, lifting her head. She looked up at him and coughed, black effluvia escaping her lips. Sticky black streaks leaked from her emerald eyes.

Jareth sobbed and held her against his chest. "Sarah," he said as he rocked her back and forth, "I was prepared to let it all crumble to nothing in order to save you. Why did you come back here?"

Sarah looked up at him and smiled, streams of black sludge coated her lips. "You know why," she told him.

The creatures and allies of the Underground gathered several feet away from away from where Jareth held their champion and savior. They watched helplessly as she sputtered beneath the weight of the crushing dark magic. She had absorbed so many years of anger and evil and bitterness it was eating away at her and she felt herself fading beneath it, like a flame beneath suffocating ash.

"Sarah," said Jareth. "You stupid girl, you had better not leave me again."

"Let me go, Jareth. You're safe now. All safe."

"No," said a voice from behind them. Jareth turned and saw Min standing a few feet away, a look of deep sorrow on her beautiful face. "The Morrigan will be back," she told them. "But you can stop her, Sarah. You have the secrets of the _Anima vasa._ You will have the ear of the High Council."

"She can't make it to the High Council, Min," spat Jareth. "She's dying!"

Min stepped forward and offered her hand. "I could not help you fight your battle, Jareth" she said. "But I offer my strength to do what must be done. The Morrigan has run unchecked long enough."

Sarah slowly reached up a trembling hand and grasped Min's outstretched hand. The goddess gasped as the icy, dark magic swirling beneath Sarah's skin prickled across hers.

"We must hurry," she told them. "There's not a moment to lose."

* * *

With leaden steps, Sarah trudged across the wide expanse of the Council Hall. Her legs and feet were so heavy and even with Jareth's and Min's borrowed strength, every movement was slow and arduous. A glance behind her revealed a disgusting black trail of slime and debris across the polished marble floor. More slime dripped from her fingers as she lumbered toward the heavy wooden doors of the Inner Chamber.

She didn't pause to knock, but threw her weight against the doors, forcing them open. She stood in the doorway with her arms braced against the doors, slime dripping from her hair and out of her eyes, a vicious snarl on her lips.

At the Council table on the high dais, the conversation halted abruptly with the crashing of the doors. The Council members stared down at her in horror and disgust. Lugh was the first to speak.

"What is the meaning of this?" he cried. "Who dares enter into the Inner Court unbidden?"

Sarah lifted her eyes and glared at them. "I am Sarah," she growled. "Daughter of Coll the Summoner, Mistress of the Half Moon, former pupil of the Morrigan." She pointed a sludge-stained finger at the goddess, who noticeably paled.

"What business do you have here, Sorceress?" asked Lugh. "These meetings are private and you and your disgusting _filth_ are making a mess on the floor."

Sarah smirked. "This filth is not mine," she told the Council General as she approached. "What you see was created by forbidden magic and given to me by the Morrigan." The room buzzed at her accusation and Lugh waved a hand to silence the other Council members.

He cleared his throat and stared down at Sarah, trying to ignore the stream of putrid slime that was oozing beneath her feet. "You make a serious accusation against your mistress and mentor, Sorceress."

"Oh, but there's more," hissed Sarah. "The Goddess used this forbidden magic against one of her own. Me. She tore me away from the man I loved and stripped me of my magic and my memories. She stole the _Anima vasa_ and used it to hide the truth of her misdeeds."

The Morrigan rose from the table with clenched fists and rage in her eyes. "She stole magic! My magic!" she cried. "I took away her powers as punishment."

Sarah turned toward the goddess. "I took what I needed to release him from your horrible curse," she answered. "I had asked, begged, pleaded. But in your bitterness and jealousy you refused to let me help the man I loved."

"Who is this man you keep referring to?" asked Lugh.

Sarah slowly turned to him. "Jareth. The King of the Goblins."

A collective gasp resounded around the Council Chamber at her admission.

"You... you're in love with the Goblin King?" Lugh asked.

Sarah nodded. "I loved him long before he was the Goblin King. I loved him when he was a humble musician. A mortal with no power or position. Only a beautiful gift of song and a bright spirit, fierce and determined. But I was held under a curse and he helped me break it. He took my curse as his own."

"Yes," the goddess hissed. "Then she left him like a broken toy." She leaned over the table and stared down at Sarah. "Come on, Sarah," she continued. "Do regale us more with how much you love that poor wretched king of the goblins."

* * *

"She's faltering," said Min. "You must keep her steady, Jareth!"

They were kneeling together on the misty plain, hands clasped, eyes closed and foreheads touching.

"I'm trying," Jareth ground out between gritted teeth.

Min clutched his hands tighter in hers. "Focus, Jareth," she told him. "She needs more from us."

Jareth nodded in answer and forced his mind and his power into a tight stream, running from his heart to Sarah.

* * *

Sarah raised her head and looked up at the faces on the Council platform. A single, sticky black tear streaked down her cheek and spattered onto the floor. She felt the combined strength of Jareth and Min pulsing into her, giving her the fortitude to continue.

"I loved him enough to risk your wrath," she replied coldly.

The goddess gave a half-hearted laugh. "The sorceress lies. As usual," she scoffed.

Lugh frowned. "An accusation such as this is bound to be greeted with doubt and suspicion, Sorceress," he said. "What proof do you have to offer?"

"She has none!" cried the Morrigan. Lugh lifted a hand to signal for her to be quiet.

Sarah reached into the folds of her dark dress and withdrew the _Anima vasa_ and held it up for them all to see.

"Where?" gasped Lugh, his eyes huge. "Where did you get that?"

"She stole it," answered the Morrigan. "I told you! She is a liar and a thief!"

"Be quiet!" Sarah bellowed at the goddess. The woman fell into shocked silence and Sarah turned to the other members of the Council.

"Ladies and Gentlemen of the Fae High Council, I offer you the truth to see for yourselves." She turned the _Anima vasa_ slightly and it opened in her hand. Like an ancient scroll, the secret truths hidden in the relic unfurled for them all to see and the Council members read with greedy eyes. One by one they turned in shock to glare at the goddess as her many atrocities came to light.

"I confess my own sins before the High Council," Sarah said tearfully. "I have lied and stolen. But the wrongs I have committed have been for love. The Morrigan's evils were committed out of greed and jealousy and spite. She used evil magic for selfish purposes and has lied to all of you for millennia."

Lugh looked at the Morrigan and shook his head. "I knew you had become reckless, goddess. But I had no idea your wickedness extended so far as to have used stolen and forbidden magic against your own pupil to keep her silent to your misdeeds."

The Morrigan tried to smile. "Lugh, Council, surely you don't believe that I would..."

"You deny the truth we have all seen laid out by the _Anima vasa_?"

"i... I..." the goddess stammered, having no answer. She could neither deny or admit without falling deeper into trouble.

Lugh turned to Sarah. "Sorceress, Mistress of the Half Moon, Sarah. What do you say is a just punishment for the crimes committed by the Morrigan?

Sarah fought to remain standing, but kept her eyes on the goddess. The dark, evil magic was consuming her. It clawed at her insides and pressed against her brain, making it difficult for her to form the words.

"She shall be cut off," she managed to squeak at last.

"It is your sentence to carry out, Sorceress."

Sarah saw the face of the goddess go slack with terror at the implication and it brought a smile to her lips. "With pleasure," she whispered.

"Sarah, what are you doing?" the Morrigan croaked to her as she neared the dais, shaking with rage and the crushing weight of centuries of malignant magic.

"I will cut you off the way you tried to cut off the Goblin Kingdom." Sarah growled. "I will bind you to waste and decay the way I was bound. I will bury you the way you tried to bury me."

The Morrigan's eyes grew wide as Sarah reached out an oozing finger and released a stream of foul magical refuse. It flowed around the dais at the goddess' feet and she shrieked in horror. The other Council members quickly dispersed as the stream became a river and then a flood. It flowed from Sarah's mouth and eyes and nose. It poured from her ears and the ends of her fingers and between her legs.

"Stop!" cried the goddess. "Stop at once!"

Sarah ignored her cries and the slime continued pouring out of her and filling the room around the dais.

"Sarah! Sarah!" the Morrigan screamed. "It is enough! Have mercy!"

Sarah paused and glared hard at her former mentor. "Not likely, bitch," she snarled before releasing a tidal wave of foul muck at the goddess. It rained down on her, latching on to her and binding her in its fetid tentacles. The reeking slime continued to pour from Sarah, wrenching out of her like pulp. She heaved the evil from her stomach and lungs, expelling every last putrid remnant. She faltered forward, unable to catch herself and her eyes closed in resignation as the slime rose up to meet her.

* * *

"She's falling! Jareth! Go! Go now!" cried Min.

Jareth was flying before he realized. He was moving through Space and Time faster than sound and light, following the cord tied from his heart to Sarah's. He could see her, his Sarah. His once-and-always love. Her eyes were closed and a slight smile was on her face as she fell forward. The ravenous slime waited to claim her as it had claimed her mistress. Jareth heard himself scream her name as his arms stretched out.

* * *

Sarah waited for the whoosh of the slime to rush over her. She waited to be consumed, devoured. She waited to dissolve into nothing. But it wasn't nothing that held her. Something hard and warm and strong was grasping her, pulling her back and sweeping her up. Whatever it was held her against its chest and she felt the cold sharpness of a horned medallion pressed against her cheek. The pulsing of the evil magic and screams of the goddess faded away and she could only hear the beating heart against her ear. She liked it. It was warm and familiar and she nestled against it and gave herself up to oblivion.

* * *

Jareth crashed onto to the mist-covered plain, a limp Sarah in his arms. She was cold, blue and unresponsive.

"Sarah, wake up and look at me," he pleaded with the pale girl in his arms. "Sarah, my love. Gods... please. Wake up."

He leaned over her and pressed his mouth against hers. Her lips were like ice, but he held his against them, offering her his warm, his breath, his essence. He started when she sputtered and breathed against his open mouth.

"Sarah?" he whispered.

"Jareth," she answered weakly. Her eyes fluttered open and she looked up at him. "Did we win?"

Jareth laughed and crushed her to his chest. "Yes, Sarah mine. I believe we did," he answered.

He kissed her then, hard and full, offering her everything he had and holding nothing back.

_Mine. Mine always. Mine forever. And I am yours._


	19. In Bonfires Green

Sarah held tightly to Jareth's arm as they walked together across the scarred plain below the Goblin Castle. Her strength was slowly returning thanks to the diligent attentions of the Wise Man, but she was still weak and a bit frail after her ordeal. Jareth smiled at her, guiding her careful steps across the cracks and chasms that marked the land.

"Like you," he told her, "the land is healing. It will take a lot of time for it to return to what it once was, but it will be restored."

Sarah looked over the buckled and charred plain and frowned. "This was all my doing," she said sadly. "So many years of anger and bitterness… I poisoned it."

Jareth leaned forward and kissed her forehead. "You were tied to a curse, Sarah," he said. "Dark magic consumed you."

"I knew what I was doing, Jareth," Sarah replied bitterly. "I wanted it all to rot. I hated it. Everything."

"And then you risked everything to save it."

Sarah looked up at Jareth. "Is that enough to make up for all the harm I've caused?"

Stepping back and taking both of her hands in his, Jareth regarded her seriously. "Sarah," he began, "We have a history of causing great hurt to one another. I don't feel as if I could ever make up for the hurt I've caused you. But that's where forgiveness comes into play. Sometimes we can't fully make amends. We can't take back harsh words or angry actions."

He brought one of her hands to his lips and kissed it.

"However," he continued, "We can offer to make an honest effort to be more than we've been. You and I are not who we once were. You are not an angry, bitter sorceress living under a curse. I am no longer a cold, manipulative king, hardened by a scorned heart and a bruised ego. We fought for each other. We put everything on the line, even our own lives, to save one another. I think that's more than worthy of forgiveness."

Sarah closed the distance between them and wrapped her arms around his neck, drawing him to her chest.

"Jareth, I love you," she whispered to him. "I did even when I left. I just didn't-"

He pulled away from her and laid a finger against her lips.

"I know, Sarah love. You don't have to tell me. It's all said and done and here we are on the brink of a new era."

He turned her around to face the glistening walls of the Labyrinth, cracked and twisted at odd angles, but still standing.

"We'll make it all new together," he told her. "Think of what we can do with our combined power, what we can create!"

Sarah smiled at the thought and she felt her magic ripple across her fingertips, eager to be released. They _would_ make it all new, better and even more beautiful. The land would flourish without the dark magic buried in its core and they would create a kingdom that would rival anything the Bright Realm had ever seen.

"Well," Sarah said drawing Jareth's arms around her. "Where do we start?"

* * *

"I can't believe you're going off again on another expedition after everything that happened," whined Karen.

Sarah shook her head and stuffed another pair of pants into her suitcase.

"Karen," she said, turning to her stepmother, "I can't just stop living my life because something bad happened to me once."

"You were kidnapped!" Karen cried.

Sarah had allowed her family to believe she'd been kidnapped and held for ransom by desert thugs. With the use of some magic, she and Jareth had manufactured an escape scenario in which Sarah had slipped away from her captors and had been aided by a benevolent sheik. That same sheik now requested her assistance in finding a lost family artifact and was offering her a handsome payment in exchange for her help.

"I'll be fine, Karen," Sarah reassured. "What are the odds of being kidnapped twice?" she added and Karen blanched.

"Don't even say that, Sarah," she scolded. "I'm just concerned. I know you're an adult and you know what you want, but I still worry."

"I know," Sarah said, kissing her stepmother's cheek. "I appreciate your concern. I will keep in touch as much as I can to keep you at ease, okay?"

Karen caressed Sarah's hair and smiled. "Okay," she said.

Karen swept out of the room as Toby entered, plopping down on Sarah's bed and looking up at his sister.

"Say hi to Squashblossom for me, okay?" he said.

"What?" asked Sarah, startled.

"Oh come on, Sar," he said, grinning. "You don't really think I believe you're just going off on another expedition, do you?"

Sarah put her hands on her hips and smiled down at her little brother. "Well, I had hoped so," she confessed.

"I'm not as dumb as mom and dad," Toby told her. "All that B.S. about you being kidnapped… I know what really happened."

"You- you do?"

"Squashblossom told me you were helping the Goblin King save the Underground. I'm guessing you were successful."

"Yes," Sarah told him with a smile.

"I'm also guessing that you and His Majesty got to know each other quite a bit."

"I- Well, yes…"

"And now you're in love and you're going to get married and be the Goblin Queen."

"Wait a minute," said Sarah. "How do you know all that?"

Toby pointed to Sarah's chest. "I can see it," he said. "I've been to the Underground. I'm Fae-touched too. I can see the amulet he gave you."

Sarah looked down at the shining sigil that hung over her breast. It was the smaller twin of Jareth's and a symbol of their union. He had enchanted it to be invisible to most people Aboveground. Obviously, her sly little brother was an exception.

"Tobes," she sighed. "You can't tell anyone. Not yet. They wouldn't understand."

Toby pulled a face. "I'm not an idiot, Sarah," he said. "But I'm right, huh?"

Sarah nodded. The plan had been for her to return to the Underground for six months under the pretense of going on an expedition. She and Jareth would begin the arduous work of restoring the land, beginning with the Goblin Castle. She would divide her time between the Goblin Kingdom and the Aboveground using her archeological work as an excuse to disappear for months at a time.

"He's not a bad guy, is he?" asked Toby. "The Goblin King, I mean."

Sarah smiled. "No," she answered. "He's not a bad guy. Not at all."

* * *

Lush, thick moss cushioned Sarah's bare feet as she surveyed the valley below the Stone Mountains. The carpet of green had sprung up from the scorched earth, a verdant bandage over the scarred landscape. There were other signs of healing all around her. The deep cracks, once filled with putrid slime, had closed leaving only barely visible seams along the surface of the earth. Flowers sprouted from the seams, both a reminder and a symbol of renewal and forgiveness for all that had been.

Below the newly restored castle, the goblins had almost rebuilt their city. New dwellings and shops were springing up around the central square. Sir Didymus oversaw the construction, advising the somewhat hapless goblins on layout and zoning.

Hoggle was charged with the restoration of the gardens and hedge-maze. He worked diligently under Jareth's specifications, coaxing green life and flowering plants out of the bruised soil. Squashblossom worked alongside him, even though she was bloated and somewhat moody in her eleventh month of pregnancy. (Dwarves, Sarah learned, have a much longer gestation period than humans.)

Ludo and his family of gentle beasts once again took up the task of singing stones into place to rebuild the walls of the Labyrinth. Each day, their happy working song echoed across the land as the walls grew higher and stronger around the Goblin Kingdom.

The Goblin Castle was overseen by Jareth and Sarah. Together they mended the cracked walls and restored the crumbling plaster and sandstone. Their magic flowed together, forging tight bonds and unbreakable fittings, creating an unmovable fortress in the heart of the Labyrinth. They covered it in light and harmony, beautiful deckings of vibrant colors and soft fabrics. The once-dreary and goblin-littered throne room became a shining centerpiece featuring two ornately carved circular thrones atop a stone dais.

"We'll rule here together," Jareth told her, encircling her waist with his arm. "King and Queen."

Sarah smiled and pulled away from him and stepped onto the dais. "I don't remember agreeing to become your queen, Jareth," she told him.

"I know I haven't properly asked-"

"No, you haven't," she answered flatly, taking a seat on her curved throne.

Jareth shook his head, chuckling to himself. He approached Sarah's throne and knelt before her, taking her hand and bowing his head low.

"Will you, Sarah?" he asked. He lifted his head a little and smiled up at her. "Will you marry me and be my queen?"

"Hmmm," said Sarah, tapping her chin with her finger.

"Sarah!" Jareth cried, and she laughed and hopped off her throne and kissed his mouth.

"Of course I will, Your Majesty," she told him. He scooped her up into his arms and whisked her off to properly christen the huge bed in the newly built east wing that served as their private chambers.

* * *

Karen noticed the ring right away. She stood in the doorway staring at the enormous diamond on her stepdaughter' left hand.

"Can we come in?" Sarah asked her stepmother.

"Oh, uh… of course," she stammered. She looked up at Sarah and then at the figure beside her, an incredibly handsome man with golden hair and piercing eyes. She held out her hand as he walked through the door into the living room. "I'm Karen," she said.

He took her hand and kissed it. "I'm Jareth," he said with a smile.

More introductions were given as Sarah's father came downstairs to welcome his daughter home. Toby played along, pretending to not know the man with whom his sister was obviously very familiar. An uncomfortable silence followed and Sarah, not one to beat around the proverbial bush, decided to get right to the point.

"I guess you've noticed I'm wearing a ring," she told her stepmother.

"Wait, what?" asked her father, a bit late to the party. Karen grabbed Sarah's hand and brought it to her husband's face. "Oh," he said.

He looked at Jareth. "I guess you're the lucky fellow?" he asked.

"I am," Jareth answered proudly.

"Did the two of you meet on the expedition?" asked Karen.

"We actually met a long time ago," Sarah told her parents. "We crossed paths again recently and well… this happened," she laughed and held up her left hand and her ring glinted in the light.

"I'm not sure I follow, Sarah," said her father.

"Well, let's sit down and I'll tell you the story," Sarah said.

Robert and Karen Williams seated themselves on the couch while Toby sprawled out on the floor and Sarah and Jareth sat on the love seat facing them.

Sarah smiled at Jareth and then took a deep breath and looked at her parents.

"It's like this," she said, "Once upon a time there was a spoiled girl who was angry at having to babysit her little brother. So, she made a wish…"

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to all who have read, followed and commented.


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